Into The Light
by Mylee
Summary: This is a story set when changes have come to the lives of the Bob-Whites. The prologue starts with Jim and Brian getting ready to go off to college, leaving the rest of their friends still in high school. No pairings as of yet...hope you enjoy!
1. Prologue

Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Prologue

The stone cut across the water of the lake, skipping five times before sinking into the depths of the water below. Jim sat on the dock, legs dangling over the water, while his fingers ran over the smoothness of another flat stone. It wasn't long before he set that one skimming across the water, too. Then he sat back, dejected, his green eyes hidden behind dark, tinted sunglasses.

Heavy steps alerted him before a weight sat down next to him. He didn't need to look at the newcomer. Jim knew who it was. "You got a talk too, huh?" he asked after a strained silence stretched out between the two friends.

"Yeah," Brian answered with a deep sigh. The conversation had been unexpected and, unfortunately for the two young men, disheartening. "As I was walking up here, I was wondering if your parents had the same talk with you." He studied Jim carefully and then gave a small nod. "Looks like they did."

"Without a doubt." His sigh was just as deep and full of youthful disappointment. He ran a hand through his red hair. "It seems our parents must be in complete agreement."

"Exactly." Brian picked up a stone and sent it across the lake, not quite as expertly as Jim's had been. It only made two skips before disappearing from sight. "This could be the one time where I don't agree with my parents, though. I'm not sure if they are right."

Jim continued to stare out of the lake. His shock had settled more into a discontented dismay. "I completely agree with you." His long legs swung off the dock, just barely missing the water below. His deep sense of honor wouldn't allow him to do anything but what their parents collectively wished. "I can't go against them, especially if your parents feel the same way."

"They made it very clear to me that they do." The excitement of graduating from high school and moving on to college had faded quickly. Being denied something that he really wanted to pursue had effectively killed it. It looked like it was going to be a long, torturous summer.

"It's crazy, isn't it?" He leaned back on his elbows and looked into the endlessly blue summer sky, which seemed to mock them with its cheerful brilliance. Not a cloud in sight. He muttered, "All this time has gone by where we have been content with our status, and, when we both finally think that maybe, just maybe, it may be time to move a little further ahead, we get slammed." It plain sucked having his hopes dashed, especially by people he loved and respected.

"All in the name of what's best for us." Brian gave a shake of his head and shaded his eyes. It would have been nice to have his sunglasses to block out the glare of the bright sun but he had forgotten them in his quick exit from the farmhouse. He eyed Jim carefully and asked, "Do you really think it's good for us?"

"Well, we get to focus on college, although I doubt that would have been a problem for either of us. We are both set in our goals." He hadn't bought that line of reasoning and had told his father that, with as much respect as he could muster. Matthew hadn't been surprised. Youth couldn't always understand the bigger picture.

"College will be a lot tougher than high school but I believe we're prepared for it." He had been ready to start his own dream forever and looked forward to beginning down the road that would eventually lead him into becoming a doctor.

Jim's goals were crystal clear, too. Start his schooling, achieve his masters and his doctorate, and then begin the process of opening his school. He had already decided on the perfect location. Ten Acres, right here in Sleepyside, right in his backyard. There was no place like home, after all. It was simply a matter of getting the credentials and the experience before he could fulfill his dream. He frowned a bit. "I couldn't imagine being distracted."

"Well, then there's the fact that they believe the age difference is too much right now and that we're a little more mature than the girls." Brian scrubbed a hand over his face. He hadn't been able to argue with the logic of his parents. "They're only fifteen."

Jim didn't answer, only thought back to an hour ago in his father's study. That had been the only argument Jim had been able to find a smidgeon of agreement with, although he wouldn't admit it to his parents or to Brian. He would be eighteen in the following month. He didn't want to agree with it. But what was a hair less than three years when you were certain you had already found the girl for you?

"So, here we are, unable to pursue the girls, and looking at a long summer ahead of us." It felt like his mouth was set in perpetual lines of discontent. Brian didn't like the feeling.

Jim shifted on the wooden dock and felt a slight flush stain his face. "I can't believe I'm sitting here, talking to you about this, when the girl I want to date is your sister." They had never shared their thoughts before, as if by some unspoken agreement they knew that it would be uncomfortable for the other, although both had clearly recognized the interest they had in each other's sister.

"Misery loves company, I guess." Brian gave a harsh laugh. "I'm doing the same thing." He thought about sweet Honey and how much he wanted her for a girlfriend. Their parents had effectively squashed that desire.

"There is hope, though," Jim put in sarcastically. The hope was only three years away. "My parents said that I'm welcome to ask Trixie out once she graduates from high school. And..." he stopped expectantly, waiting for Brian to continue.

"And I'm more than welcome to do the same with Honey," Brian supplied, a little scornfully. It seemed like they had the exact same conversation. "But not before. They told me that being in college is much different than being in high school. They want us to experience college while the girls get all that they can out of high school."

"The 'wonders of college,'" Jim chimed in with another uncharacteristic sardonic remark. It didn't sit well upon his normally cheerful demeanor but he needed some kind of an outlet for his disbelief and disappointment. "I personally liked that description from my mother."

"Moms said something very similar." A small line settled on his forehead. "I took it to mean that we're free to date anyone in college, but not the girls we actually want to date."

"They must have discussed together," Jim decided with a frown. "Can't you just see them, sitting in the kitchen at Crabapple Farm or having tea in the parlor at Manor House, and discussing what is best for us and Trixie and Honey?"

He could, very easily. It didn't take too much of an imagination to picture it clearly. "It sucks, all right."

It seemed he wasn't the only one saying uncharacteristic things. Jim had to laugh, the word 'sucks' coming from the last person he ever expected to say it. "Well, at least we hadn't mentioned anything to either Trixie or Honey before our meetings this morning."

That wouldn't have been good. Not known for her easy temperament in the face of any disappointment, Trixie's temper would have been unleashed. Honey would have handled herself better, her tact legendary and her personality more serene than volatile. He bit his lip. "We'll have to keep it that way, too."

There wasn't any other choice. Both respected their parents too much to do anything behind their backs. "Well, at least we're in this together." Jim clapped Brian on the back and threw his words back at him. "As you said earlier, misery does love company."

"That's something." They would be heading to NYU together as roommates and fellow freshman in a little over two months. They may as well be a little heartbroken together, too. Brian contemplated the summer ahead, then stood up with a small groan. "I guess I'd better get back to the Farm. I promised Moms I'd help weed the garden earlier today."

Jim looked at the blazing sun above them. It was just approaching the heat of the June day. "You might want to wait until later," he suggest helpfully. He couldn't imagine it would be comfortable working in the heat.

"Nah," Brian shrugged. "It'll give me something else to think about." Thinking was one of his favorite past times. He'd also be able to take out his frustrations on the innocent weeds. The distraction would do him good.

Jim waved goodbye to his friend and sat for a while longer. Finally deciding it was getting too hot to sit on the dock, he stood up and looked towards the Manor House. He reluctantly started forward, his feet finding the path with ease. His pace was slower than normal. He was dreading the first time he had to face his parents again. He didn't want to see the looks of sympathy they would be giving him.

A set of rapid footsteps came tripping down the path, alerting him to their presence a few seconds before a body barreled her way towards him. He had a moment to steady himself before the object of his affections crashed into him with a surprisingly strong force for such a petite girl.

"Oh, woe!" Trixie got out, her startled eyes looking into the impressive chest. She didn't have to lift her face to know who she had nearly run over. The infamous blush started its pink trail across her face and her heart started a slow, painful beat.

He savored the feel of her pressed against his body, the top of her head barely touching his shoulders, and held onto her waist in the pretense of steadying her for perhaps a little too long. Then, when her big blue eyes met his, he reluctantly let her go and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jean shorts, unsure what else to do with them. Although it was difficult, he attempted to fall back into their normal comradery. Luckily for him, she had no idea about his conversation with his parents or what his intentions had been. "What's the hurry, Trixie?" He was pleased by the normal tone to his voice.

She rocked back on her heels and released a small laugh, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swimming in Jim's eyes. "The usual, of course. I spent too long with Honey this morning. We exercised Susie and Lady early this morning. We wanted to go riding before it got too hot and then hung out in her room for bit." She rolled her eyes, making him laugh. "And, surprise, surprise, I'm late for my chores."

"I saw Brian a few minutes ago. He was on his way to help weed the garden." He didn't offer her why the two of them had been together.

"That would be one of my chores, too." She glanced up at the sky. Not a cloud to offer the prayer of shade. "But I don't think I'll have trouble asking Moms to wait on that chore until later in the day. It's dusting and vaccuuming for me, first. There's no use getting out of those. Believe me, I've tried."

He couldn't help it. She looked too adorable. He reached out and gave a tug to the wayward blonde curl that fell over her forehead. At least she wouldn't think anything of it. He always tested its buoyancy. It wouldn't be too hard to remain 'just friends'. But he seriously doubted if the look he was giving her could be termed 'fond' and was very grateful for the dark sunglasses. He'd have to work on that. "Good luck with that, Trix," he said, not sure which one he was actually wishing good luck to.

She gifted him with her easy smile and was trotting on down the path, trying to make up for lost time so her mom wouldn't be too upset with her. Jim watched her until she was out of his line of sight. Then, with a sigh that made him feel a little older than his nearly eighteen years, he turned toward his house and started the walk home.

* * *

Notes on the ages of the characters:

Not sure of the exact age of the Bob-Whites...it was a little confusing trying to figure it out so I went with my own thoughts. I hope I didn't mess it up too badly! I have Brian at 18, Jim nearly 18, and Trixie, Di, and Honey are 15. Mart and Dan would be 16. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 1

Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this fic!

Chapter One

The sound of the locker door slamming satisfied her. Trixie glared at it, her lips pursed. She held her dreaded trigonometry book in her hand and barely resisted the urge to kick the innocent metal door. It wasn't the poor locker's fault that she had math homework. In her mind she'd been lucky enough to miss out on the tougher math subjects, such as calculus I and II, but most colleges wanted to see at least precalculus and trig as a bare minimum. She had suffered through precalc last semester and had somehow managed to pass it with a low B, to no one's greater surprise than her own. Now it was trig's turn. She turned as her name was called, a frown on her face, not particularly excited about the homework waiting for her at home.

"Trixie!" Di called out happily, her long strides taking her towards her friend quickly, and a small purse hitting her hips with each step. She had two books clutched to her chest. "I'm glad I caught up to you before you left." She reached Trixie, slightly out of breath.

"I thought we're all going home together," Trixie mentioned, a little confused. It was the normal routine. The three girls usually traveled to and from school together. She held the book to her chest and leaned against her locker.

"Oh, right!" Di agreed on a tinkling laugh that had the few other students loitering in the hallway sending interested glances their way. Di always had that effect on others. She shifted her books in her hand, completely oblivious to the admiring looks coming her way, which only added to the irresistible charm of Diana Lynch.

"I'm waiting for Honey right now. She had to speak with Mr. Jeffries about her English paper. She had to have her topic okayed before she starts writing it." Honey had missed school the day before due to a scheduled dentist appointment and was one step behind the others in her English class. Ever the conscientious one, she had made plans to meet with her teacher briefly to catch up.

Di sighed dreamily. "Just think, Trix. We only have six more weeks of this. Exactly six more weeks to this day! Six more weeks of homework and papers and tests and finals and school lunches and then..."

"We'll be high school graduates!" Trixie finished for her, her mood restored at the prospect of having her high school years behind her. "Won't that be wonderful?" Her eyes gleamed with happiness. To finally be done with high school would be an amazing accomplishment. It had seemed so long in the coming and now, here it was, practically around the corner. She could almost taste it.

Di flicked back a piece of her long black hair and giggled again. "It most certainly will." She gazed down the hallway. "I must admit that I am definitely starting to experience a serious case of senioritus. I can't imagine missing this place at all."

"But you know you will," a familiar voice announced from behind them.

Trixie and Di turned as one to the welcome arrival. "Hi, Honey!" Trixie greeted her. "How did your meeting go?"

Her smile was her answer. "Just fine, Trix. No problems at all. My topic is okay and I'll be able to start on my paper. It's due next Friday, you know, so it's great to have the go-ahead to write it." She shifted her backpack on her shoulder. "Are you ready to go home?"

Trixie looked at the bright pink backpack with multi-colored polka dots swirling around it and suppressed a small groan. "Not quite yet." She stared at Di and gave her a hint. "I think we're still missing something, Di."

It only took Di a second. She slapped a hand to her forehead. "Of course!" She gave a small stomp to her foot.

"What are you missing?" Honey asked curiously.

"Our backpacks!" They chorused back together and then ended up in a fit of giggles. Di finally went on to explain, "We must have left them in the computer lab. You know Trix and I have sixth period together. The computer lab teacher, Mrs. Anderson, asked us to take some papers to the office for her right at the end of sixth period. We did but..."

"We thought we'd be back in time to get them but it took longer than we thought. Someone," here she threw a sharp glance at Di, who did her best to look innocent but failed miserably and ended up giggling again, "had to talk to every person we met in the halls. By the time we made it to the office, there were only two minutes before the start of our seventh period class. We couldn't be late. You know how strict the school is on tardiness, especially with the school year coming to an end. We never it made it back to the computer lab."

Honey linked her arms with her friends, her decision made. "Well, let's go get them before they lock up the computer lab and then head on home. It's Wednesday. The week's halfway over and I'm ready to go."

The girls walked through the nearly empty halls, heading towards the main lobby and then into the library, chatting the entire way. More than one pairs of eyes followed them, smiling at the lovely sight of the blonde, the brunette, and the honey-haired girls. The computer lab was located in a room off the library. Luck was with them. Mrs. Anderson was at the door, ready to lock it, when they reached the lab. "Mrs. Anderson!" Trixie called out loudly.

She stopped, her key in her hand, and smiled at the girls. "Trixie and Diana!" she said with relief. "I was afraid you had left already." She opened the door and ushered the girls in. "I didn't know what to do about your bags so I was going to leave them locked in the lab until tomorrow morning."

Di gifted her with a smile as she and Trixie hurried into the computer lab. Their bags were just were they had left them, side by side, and on the table in the far end of the room. The bags were identical, two turqouise backpacks from LL Bean. Trixie and Di had collapsed into fits of giggles on the first day of school when they realized that they had chosen the same bag. Di had wanted purple but, by the time she had placed her order, the purple option was long gone. The only difference in the two backpacks was a large ink stain from a pen that had leaked on the front of Trixie's bag. They shouldered their bags and thanked Mrs. Anderson.

"I'm glad you made it. I stepped out of the computer lab for a few minutes to get my things. I thought maybe you'd retrieved your backpacks then but no such luck. Thank goodness you made it in time!" With another wave, Mrs. Anderson was off, ready to go home and play with her little toddler.

"Thanks again," Trixie acknowledged. After leaving the computer lab, they stopped at a table in the library. She dropped her backpack on the table and placed her math book in it, her lips turned down at the corners. "I am NOT looking forward to my math homework," she grumbled with ill grace.

"And I am not looking forward to my Spanish," Di agreed in the same tone. She followed suit and dropped her books into her backpack with a satisfying thump.

"Well, I can tell you what I am looking forward to." Ever the optimistic one, Honey hid a smile at her friends' grumblings. She waited as both girls looked at her expectantly. "I am excited that we get to spend a whole evening at home. And if I remember correctly..." she paused and stared at Trixie.

"Gleeps! You're right!" Trixie shouted, forgetting where she was. The librarian glared at her from the desk. Trixie bit her lip and apologized before speaking in a softer voice, "Mart is coming home tonight. His first year of college is over and he's finished with his exams." A swift look at her watch told her the time. "He may even be home now."

"Is Dan coming with him?" Di asked in an attempt to avoid any teasing from her friends.

"He's meeting Regan at Saratoga. They'll be home on Sunday," Honey explained. "Regan's going away for the rest of the week. He's looking at some horses that my father is thinking about buying and he invited Dan along, sort of as a way to celebrate the end of his first year of college."

Trixie's blue eyes twinkled with mirth. "Do you want to come home with me, Di? I'm sure Mart would be glad to see you."

Di turned a becoming shade of pink. She gave a small shake of her head. While her and Mart had never officially dated, there were many unresolved feelings between the two. The timing hadn't been right through their high school years together. Di's parents had been adamant that she not start dating until she was seventeen, wanting their daughter to focus on her grades instead of dates. By then, Mart was ready to leave for college. Therefore, they had not had a chance for anything serious although the thought had been in both of their minds. Di hoped it would change over the summer. "I, ah, I have the Spanish homework, Trix. I don't think I'd be able to come over tonight." She hid her face, all of a sudden very interested in the way her books were organized in her backpack.

Honey aimed a reproachful look at Trixie that she completely missed before she decided to give her a little taste of her own medicine. "Do you know that Jim should be home in less than a week?" she mentioned casually. "I talked to him last night. He only has one more final left and he has to turn in a project. Then he is officially finished with his third year at NYU."

The mention of Jim's name was always cause for the return of her telltale blush. Today was no different. Trixie mumbled, "That's good," and copied Diana. She started fishing around in her backpack, looking for nothing in particular.

"That just leaves Brian." Di took pity on her friend and put an arm around Trixie. "When will he be coming home?"

"I think with Jim," Trixie answered, grateful for the excuse to talk about something different than Jim. Her feelings had always been well-known, although nothing had ever come of them. She knew Jim had dated in college. She had even gone on dates. But the idea of her and Jim as a potential couple had never completely left her mind. To her, he was still the most wonderful boy in the world. "He has a few more finals to take and then he'll be home, but only for a few weeks. Then he's back to NYU. He's taking an internship at one of their affiliated hospitals for the summer," she offered in case either girl didn't know it. "He wants to build his resume up as much as he can."

Honey knew. It was one of the reasons why she wasn't as excited about the upcoming summer as she normally would be. "It will be the first summer that all of the Bob-Whites aren't home," she said, a little sadly.

"Don't do that," Di ordered her firmly. She gave Honey a small hug. "We'll all be together for the first part of the summer, anyway. Plus we have the added benefit of finally joining the boys and actually graduating from this place." She gave a small shiver. She couldn't wait to shake the dirt of the school off her feet.

"Not if you don't leave the library!" Mrs. Letitz exlaimed, standing in front of them with her car keys out and her purse in her hands. Her eyebrows were arched, not too pleased about having to stay past her normal departure time.

The three girls shared guilty looks. They mumbled quick apologies and goodbyes and made a swift dash for the door. Outside of the library, they started the long walk down the hallways towards the parking lot where the Bob-White station wagon was waiting for them. The three of them possessed the station wagon now that the four males of their group were in college and took turns driving it to and from school.

"I think it's going to be a very promising summer," Di sang out cheerfully as they made their way across the asphalt of the nearly empty parking lot. Only two other vehicles were still parked in the lot.

"How so?" Trixie inquired. She walked to the passenger side of the car. It was Honey's turn to drive. She opened the door and slid in, settling her backpack on the floor and snapping the seatbelt into place. She missed the white envelope peeping out of the front pocket.

Honey turned the key and started the car with practiced ease. She smoothly pulled the car out of its spot and started towards the entrance way to the school. "Why do you think it's going to be a very promising summer?"

In the backseat, Di adjusted her seatbelt and fluffed her hair. "We get to spend the summer working together for one thing. I'm very excited that we are working at the Sleepyside Country Club. It's going to be so much fun to work with my best friends."

Trixie's smile was easy and bright. "I agree!" she said happily. "I'm really glad that you talked me into those lifeguard courses this winter, Honey!"

"You did well," Honey replied with a grin. Taking the courses at the community center had been very enjoyable with Trixie by her side. "I'm going to like working with you at the Country Club this year." She had worked as a life guard last year and had enjoyed herself immensely. She couldn't begin to imagine how much fun it would be to work each day with Trixie.

"And I'm glad that I'm going to be working in the air conditioning," Di put in with a merry laugh. She didn't have an interest in being a life guard or staying outside in the hot summer heat. "I'll be sitting pretty behind the desk, answering calls and confirming reservations, while the two of you swelter out in the heat." She used her hand to fan her face. It was a well-known fact that she did not like the hot weather.

"Both Honey and I were trained to help out with the reception area, too," Trixie informed Di. "They called us in last Saturday and taught us how to do it, just in case something were to happen. There may be a chance for one of us to work inside with you."

Di's smile was beautiful. "I would love that, ladies." She leaned forward. "I believe we are going to have the very best summer of our lives."

"We have to get through the rest of spring and high school. There is still one more month of schooling, you know," Honey cautiously reminded her friends. She kept her eyes on the road and made the turn carefully onto Glen Road. "Let's focus on that first. Then we'll be ready for the summer."

Trixie stared out the window, wondering what the summer would hold for them. She wasn't particularly interested in the next few weeks before her high school graduation. The only interest the rest of the spring held for her was the return of the rest of the Bob-Whites home. School was school. She didn't think there was anything exciting or mysterious to the ending of her high school career. She simply wanted it done.


	3. Chapter 2

Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Two

Di grabbed her backpack from the seat and waved a hasty goodbye. "I'll see you two tomorrow. My dad's bringing me to school so don't worry about picking me up. Good luck with your homework." She gave them a quick smile and then she was out of the car, heading towards the front door of the Lynch family mansion.

Trixie and Honey smiled their farewells. "It was probably a good idea to drop her off first," Trixie noted with a knowing look at her friend.

Honey shrugged a delicate shoulder. "I didn't want to embarrass her in case Mart was already home. I think she'd rather be more prepared for seeing him again." They both knew that Di would prefer to be looking her glamorous best the first time she ran into Mart after such a long separation. No one had seen him since the winter break, almost four months ago. He'd been very busy with his classes during the semester and had also signed up for a short internship over spring break. He hadn't been able to make it home, much to everyone's disappointment.

"Do you think anything will happen between the two of them this summer?" Trixie questioned, rolling down her window and glancing at the familiar passing scenery. The green leaves were the brightest they would be and were unfolding, beginning the promise of the shade they would give during the hot summer months. Beautiful blossoms were popping up from the green grass, graciously spreading their delightful colors around. Purple and white lilacs were blooming, their fragrant pungent in the air. They could even hear the sound of a distant lawnmower, cutting grass for the very first time this season. Spring was definitely in the air.

Honey smiled to herself, remembering how the two of them had danced around each other during Mart's winter break. "Now that Di's parents are allowing her to date, I don't think it'll be much of a problem. I think she's planning on asking Mart to the prom in a few weeks."

Trixie drew back, a little stunned, her head tilted to the side. She thought Di already had a date. "But...but...but I thought she was going with..."

"Ethan Evans?" Honey finished for her. Ethan was a nice, quiet boy who was in many of Di's classes. "I found out by accident that he's not going with Di. He never was, in fact. He asked Jane Morgan, of all people. Di confessed to me then that she made the whole story up because she really wants to go with Mart. She didn't want to tell us the truth at first, though. She was a little embarrassed but then she felt very silly for making up a story to cover up her real choice, if you understand what I mean. Oh, you probably don't, do you?" She came to a sputtering stop, unable to tell if she had made any sense at all. "Well, Trix, the gist of it is she wants to go with Mart and never had any plans to go with anyone else."

Releasing a small giggle at her long-winded, and typical, explanation, Honey got serious again and cautioned softly, "She didn't tell me not to tell you, Trixie. She knows the two of us can't keep a secret from each other for very long, anyway. But it would probably be better if you didn't ask her about. I think it would embarrass her a lot, with Mart being your brother, and then the fact that she lied. Granted, it was kind of a silly lie, but still...she doesn't like to lie, especially to us." She reached over and put a comforting hand on Trixie's knee.

She wasn't offended. She liked the sound of Di and Mart together and would help them in any way she could. Her eyes narrowed slightly at Honey as her mind started to swirl with a few suspicions, absurd in the extreme. "You'd better come clean right now, Miss Wheeler. You're still going with Michael Hartman, right? You haven't tricked us for some devious reason of your own?"

Honey tossed her head, resisting the urge to laugh, and managed to keep her attention on the quiet country road. "No, Trix. I don't have anything up my sleeve. I was asked by Michael and I said yes, as you very well know. We're going to the prom together. As friends, just like you and Alex Simpson."

One edge of her lips curled up. She'd been pressured into saying yes by both Honey and Di after Alex had asked her. They had pleaded with her, telling her that the prom wouldn't be the same without her and that she simply had to go. She cut off a sigh. There was really only one person she wanted to go with but that didn't seem to be a possibility. Maybe if she took a leaf from Di's book...she mused softly to herself but quickly dismissed the idea. While she didn't have any trouble tracking down criminals in the hopes of bringing them to justice, she knew that she couldn't pull off an emotional subterfuge like Di was attempting to do or break her given word to a very nice boy, especially when the prom was only three and a half weeks away."Well, whoever Di ends up taking to the prom, the six of us will have a great, _friendly_ time." She stressed the word _friendly_. Neither she nor Honey was expecting anything romantic out of their senior prom. To them, it was merely a teenage ritual that couldn't be missed or ignored. It seemed like Di had higher hopes than her two friends.

The station wagon started down the driveway to Trixie's house. Honey looked at the vehicles in the driveway. Three cars. A dark red Ford Taurus was parked next to the other cars. It hadn't been there earlier when she had picked Trixie up. Honey pointed to it excitedly, "Look, Trix! One more Belden has returned home."

Her smile lit up her eyes, making them sparkle with warmth. As much as Mart could annoy her, she hadn't liked not having him home. They were much too close. She had missed him terribly while he had been away at school. She grabbed her backpack and offered, "Do you want to come in and say hi, Honey? You could have dinner with us. That is, if Mart leaves any." Her laugh was happy and delighted. She barely resisted the urge to clap her hands. Nearly a full house at Crabapple Farm. She couldn't ask for anything more, unless it was having her oldest brother home, too.

Honey shook her head, declining the offer. "Not tonight, Trix. I've got to start my English paper. I'm already a day behind on it." She looked towards the cozy farmhouse, picturing the happy reunion in her mind. "Besides, I think the Belden family should have their own night tonight."

"You _are_ family, silly," Trixie shot back. But, knowing it was useless to persist, she got out of the car and said, "I'll see you tomorrow. Same bat time, same bat channel?"

"Of course. I'll pick you up at 7:15. That should give us plenty of time to get to school. But it's your turn to drive." Honey reached over and rolled up the passenger's window. She watched Trixie hurry across the front yard with an excited spring to her step. It felt good to have another Bob-White home. Only three more to go. She smiled happily to herself, knowing that by this time next week everyone would be home and they would have five blessed weeks together before Brian had to leave for his internship. She backed up and slowly traveled back down the driveway, her mind already on the paper that she had yet to start.

Without hesitating, Trixie sprinted up the front porch steps and threw open the front door. "I'm home!" she called out loudly from the door and raced into the house, dropping her backpack on a chair, her eyes searching for her older brother. She found him immediately, sitting in the recliner and reading the _Sleepyside Sun_.

Mart looked up from the newspaper, lifting an eyebrow at the tornado that was his sister. Some things never change, he thought gratefully."And she arrives with the gentle grace of a heavyweight wrestler," he replied with his characteristic teasing. Dropping the paper to the table, he stood up and held out his arms, a large smile of welcome wreathing his handsome face, and belying his sarcastic remark.

Trixie didn't waste any time. She barreled into his arms and gave him a fierce hug, absolutely excited to have him home. "Thank goodness you're home, Mart. It's wonderful to have you back. You have no idea."

He hugged her back, just as fiercely. It had surprised him how much he had missed her. As much as he had looked forward to going to college and being on his own, he hadn't realized that he would regret so much of what he would have to leave behind. He regretted not being near Trixie, as well as...but there was the whole summer to think about that issue. He refused to think about Di and his hopes for them until he was alone and concentrated solely on his sister. He was glad that she would be attending college in the City, too. "I've missed you, too," he murmured with a softness that surprised her.

Clearing his throat, he stepped back and looked her over. He saw the sparkle to her brilliant blue eyes, the twin dimples framing her pretty smile, the freckles that had faded over the years and were nearly indistinguishable unless you knew where to look for them, and the soft blonde curls that skimmed just above her shoulders. She looked the same as she had when he left to go back to Fordham in mid-January and yet...older, somehow. It was a bit disconcerting. "Haven't grown much, have you, sister dear?" He decided it was better to tease than to give in to sentimentality. There was something oddly comforting in old habits.

"Still the same," she answered smoothly, recognizing what he was doing, and gave him a small nod of appreciation. She threaded her arm through his and pulled him towards the kitchen, chirping happily, "It's a good thing you're back, Mart. You can help me with my trigonometry homework tonight."

He gave a gasp of mock horror, slapped his free hand to his forehead in a dramatic display. "Will wonders never cease? One Beatrix Belden is having difficulty in math?"

"It's never been my favorite," she informed him tartly, in case he hadn't realized it. "But I always manage to pull though it. Somehow."

The delicious aromas of a Belden family dinner drew them into the warm and inviting kitchen, the heart of their house. Helen was busy taking out the shepherd's pie from the oven, her face slightly flushed from the chore of preparing the meal. Peter was chopping the final ingredients for the tossed salad. Bobby was sitting at the table, intent on his Nintendo DS, and didn't even glance up when they came into the room.

"Hello, Trixie," Helen greeted her, carefully placing the warm baking dish on hot pads along the neat kitchen counter. "Did you have a good day at school?" she inquired as she searched for a serving spoon.

"Except for the math, she's fine," Mart answered for her with a cheeky grin. He took his regular seat at the table and patted Bobby on the shoulder. His younger brother gave him a glare for interrupting his game and went back to it without a word.

"Ha, ha," Trixie laughed sarcastically. She walked over to the cabinets and began taking out the plates. It was lovely to have to take out an extra one. She handed them to her mother who quickly started filling them up. "I had a great day at school, Moms."

"Time to put the game away," Peter murmured quietly to Bobby as he placed the salad bowl on the table. The different choices of salad dressing were next, as well as the blue sunflower bowls that Trixie handed him. Bobby did as he was told, without groaning too much. He saved the game and then waited for his dinner.

Before long, the table was ringing with laughter and tales of their different exploits at school. Bobby told how one of his friends had stuck green peas up his nose during lunch, on a dare from another boy, and how his friend's parents had to come to school to take him to the doctor. Trixie told them how she had been daydreaming her way through her trig class but had somehow come up with the right answer when her teacher unexpectedly called on her, not only surprising her, but also her teacher and the students around her. Mart shared many stories of his semester at college, from the silly to the sublime, and had his family roaring with laughter. He finally ended with a loud sigh as the plates were finished, "I do find that I must borrow a line from a very famous movie. There truly is no place like home."

"I'll second that," Trixie exclaimed forcefully. She smiled at both of her parents and pretended not to notice how her mom brushed away a sentimental tear.

Mart leaned back in his chair, ran his fingers along the edge of the old table, and focused on his sister. "So, tell me, oh sister dear, have there been any mysteries to solve while I have been away?" They had chatted a few times during the semester but had relied mostly on infrequent emails and text messages. It hadn't been a satisfying way to communicate, for either of them.

"It's been pretty quiet around here," Trixie replied, much to her parents' collective relief. There hadn't been a good mystery to solve in a long time. "Honey, Di and I have managed to stay busy with our homework and our applications for college."

Mart pretended to twirl a moustache, earning another laugh from Bobby. "I seem to have heard from the grapevine that someone in this room will be attending St. John's in the fall." He looked around the room, intentionally ignoring Trixie, until his eyes fell on Bobby. "Could it be you?"

His younger brother giggled. Mart was the most entertaining of his siblings. Bobby appreciated that. "No, silly. That would be Trixie."

"And Honey and Di," Trixie was quick to add, always feeling a little flustered when she was the center of attention, even among her family members. The girls were ecstatic that they would be continuing their education together. Trixie and Honey would be studying criminal justice while Di would be concentrating on her general electives. She wasn't quite sure of her major yet. There were too many interesting possibilities for her to declare just one. "We're all going to St. John's together. I think we're going to have a lot of fun, just like you and Dan have at Fordham and Jim and Brian have at NYU."

Peter leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm proud of you, Trix." Then he looked over at Mart and added with feeling, "I'm proud of all of my kids."

"It is much easier entering college with a good friend by your side," Mart informed her, eager to share his knowledge with her. "It's great to have a built-in roommate, someone you know who won't bother the living daylights out of you or pull some kind of awful stunt simply because they don't like you. I've heard horror stories of how roommates didn't get along."

Helen looked at the empty plates and came to a quick decision. "Why don't your father and I take care of the dishes tonight, gang? You are free to go!" She shooed them away with her hands and tried to smother her smile at Peter's dismayed frown.

They wasted no time. Bobby was the first one out of the kitchen, his DS in hand, and sprinted up the stairs to his room. Trixie and Mart followed at a more mature rate, but were equally eager to leave the room before their parents changed their minds. They made it to the living room, where Trixie reached into her bookbag. "It's homework for me," she breathed out on a low sigh.

"I'll help you out," Mart offered kindly, without any form of teasing. He walked over to her and took the math book from her, much to her surprise. "We'll work here." He pointed to the coffee table.

Trixie sat down on the sofa with a grateful sigh. She opened her notebook to a clean page and grabbed a pencil from her backpack. She wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth or, in this case, a sometimes temperamental brother who was unselfishly willing to help her out in her time of need. "Let's get started, then!" She turned to the correct page and, with Mart's help, soon had her homework finished.

"That was actually rather easy," she mentioned to him when they finished, smiling thankfully at him. It always surprised her that when they stopped bickering they could work together as one of the most successful units in their group. "You should change your major and become a teacher."

"Nah," he disagreed, shaking his head. "I like photography and journalism too much." He was very excited about his dual major. Photography had been a hobby of his that he wanted to explore as a potential career. His love of words had led him to his other choice of journalism. It was a perfect fit. He hoped to pursue both once he graduated.

"You'll do great, Mart." She gave him a small punch in the shoulder. "I really do appreciate your help. Without you, I think I would be stuck on problem number one, clutching my hair and pulling it out. I'd have been bald by the time I finished number ten!" Her laugh was contagious.

He flashed her a grin. "Now that would be sight to see. Next time you need help, I'll sit back and watch instead. Maybe I'll even charge admission. That would be a great way to make some extra money." He tapped his finger to his chin and contemplated the scheme, only to be interrupted by more of Trixie's laughter.

She put away the books and zipped her backpack shut. No more homework for the night. Then she reached into the side pocket for the cell phone her parents insisted she take with her every where she went. She faced an extreme amount of grounding if she were to ever not have it on her person. She couldn't blame them. After some of the situations she had found herself in over the years, she was more than willing to give them a little piece of mind. Not surprised, she saw that it needed to be charged. "Well, I'm going to grab a shower so I don't have to take one in the morning. Six thirty comes around awful early," she complained.

He remembered those days well. One thing he loved most about college was the freedom to plan his schedule around his sleep habits. He intentionally planned it so that his classes were in the late morning and afternoon, allowing him to sleep in whenever possible. "I feel for you, Trix, really, I do," he told her sympathetically.

She smiled. She dropped her backpack on the floor near the sofa with a small thud and headed out of the room. Coming to a pause near the doorway, she turned and offered quietly, "I'm really happy you're home, Mart. I missed you." Then she was gone.

"I missed you, too." Mart picked up her backpack and brought it over to row of hooks behind the front door, where their mother preferred backpacks and assorted items to hang, instead of lying haphazardly around the room. He hung it up for Trixie, in-between a blue windbreaker and a grey sweatshirt that could only have fit Bobby, and watched a white envelope flutter to the ground. The vein of curiosity was as strong within him as it was in his sister. He reached down and picked it up, a small frown settling on his lips. No name but sealed. Nothing seemed unusual about it upon further inspection so he stuck it back into the front pocket, zipped it up, and headed up the stairs to his room, whistling cheerfully the entire way. It really was good to be home.


	4. Chapter 3

Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Three

Cracking open an eye at the insistent and annoying buzzing of her alarm clock, stifling a moan at its second interruption of the remains of her cherished sleep, she reached an arm out and pounded the snooze ungraciously, silencing the sound for another eight minutes. Then Trixie flopped back on the soft pillows in her bed and stared up at the ceiling, blinking away the sunlight filtering past her curtains. It took a superhuman effort of will but she was able to throw off the bright white bedspread with happy blue flowers waltzing across it and climbed out of her comfy bed.

"I don't have much time," she muttered, discontented. Only about twenty minutes before Honey would be there to pick her up...if Honey was on time, too. There was never a guarantee on that score. Both Trixie and Honey were notoriously known for their tardiness. Something always seemed to come up. She quickly rummaged through her dresser drawers and pulled out what she needed, not particularly caring that she ruined many of the neatly folded clothes inside. After fixing up her bed and a short trip to the bathroom, she decided she was as ready for the school day as she was going to get.

Humming quietly to herself, she flew down the stairs and went into the kitchen. Her dad greeted her from the large kitchen table, where he was drinking his first cup of black coffee, and preparing himself for the start of a new work day. "Morning, Princess," he said with his handsome smile.

Trixie reached into the refrigerator for the orange juice, poured herself a glass, and covered her mouth when she gave a broad yawn. "Good morning," she replied, still caught somewhere within the tight grasp of sleep.

He nodded understandingly at her. She was never one to find it easy to wake in the morning. "Will Honey be here soon?" he inquired.

After a quick glance at the clock told her that she didn't have much time for anything else, she reached into the full pantry and grabbed herself a granola bar. The orange juice went down in one gulp and she put the empty glass in the sink with a loud click. "Any minute, actually. I overslept...well, I snoozed the alarm clock one too many times." She bent down and kissed him on the forehead. "Have a good day, Daddy. I'll see you later."

He watched with barely contained amusement as she left the kitchen the exact way she had come in, a bundle of boundless energy, even first thing in the morning. An image of a much younger Trixie, dressed in her favorite Scooby Doo pajamas with her two older brothers close behind her, bouncing down the steps with her trademark spiritedness and into the kitchen and then tumbling into his arms for a hearty good morning kiss, briefly transfixed itself in his mind, only to be replaced by the more poised young woman who had recently left the kitchen. "Where does the time go?" he wondered sentimentally and looked into his mug, as if he could find the answers swirling in the black liquid.

Trixie gave her mom a quick hug as she passed her in the hallway and than ran to the living room. She had a minute to briefly wonder who had hung her backpack up for before taking it off of its hook. She was in the process of slipping her cell phone into its proper slot when she heard loud footsteps thudding down the stairs. The last person she thought would be up and about grinned down at her. "Mart!" she exclaimed happily, grateful that she would be able to see him before leaving for school.

It was a surprise to him, too. He hadn't planned on waking up so early but, the second he heard sounds that could only belong to Trixie tromping around upstairs, he had decided to get up, too. If luck was with him, he figured he had a good chance to catch a glimpse of a fair, dark-haired damsel. He knew the three of them often rode to school together. "Good morning, sunshine," he remarked as he hit the bottom of the steps.

Trixie put her granola bar into the backpack and shouldered it, looking much like the schoolgirl she still was, and lifted an eyebrow. "I didn't expect to see you this morning. Shouldn't you still be sleeping?" she questioned curiously.

"It seems that a herd of elephants must have been rampaging through the upstairs a few minutes ago," he replied, straight-faced, although his normal good humor was shining in the crystal clear blue eyes that so matched hers. "You would have to be deaf to have missed it."

She found herself rolling her eyes at him and was about to quip something back when she heard the welcome beep of a horn. "That's Honey!" she exclaimed unnecessarily and opened the front door, a curious Mart on her heels. They watched together as Honey expertly parked the station wagon behind the other cars in the driveway and waved to them. Trixie glanced at the clock on the mantel above the fireplace. "Right on time, too. Good for her."

Mart did his best to hide a stab of disappointment. Only Honey was in the car. No Di. It looked like he could have stayed in bed a little longer. He muffled a low sigh behind his normal teasing. "Both squaws are up, semi-ready, and on time for school."

She caught the 'semi-ready' remark, realized it was aimed at her, and thought with an inward groan that he was probably right. She had literally thrown herself together for the day, not unusual for a school day, and hadn't put too much effort into it. Light blue jeans, a faded green t-shirt, and sneakers. She had taken a few seconds to run a comb through her hair and to pull her wayward curls back with a nondescript barrette. Nothing spectacular in that and certainly nothing she could improve upon in the next minute or so. No need to dwell on it; she turned back to him and patted his arm. "Have a good first day back home, Mart. Do you have anything planned for the day?"

"Nothing," he informed her, slightly ill-at-ease with absolutely nothing on his plate for the rest of the week. It was an odd adjustment. His schedule at college had been jam-packed. To have nothing scheduled was...almost eerie. "I'm sure Moms will have a few chores for me. Really, there isn't anything going on until Dan gets back on Sunday. Then we'll get started up again. We already have our first job on Monday." Mart and Dan had formed a successful, under-the-table, lawn care business during the past three summers. It was a good way to earn extra money for any expenses, as well as spending time with a best friend. Dan supplied the pick-up truck, Mart supplied the lawnmower and the rest of the equipment they needed, and they both supplied the manpower.

Pointing to her backpack, she said gratefully, "Thanks for cleaning up after me last night. I appreciated that." She meant it. It was perfectly lovely to have him home.

"No problem, although I doubt Moms would have had your head for it. I bet you usually forget to hang it up." Her slight blush told him he was right. He couldn't help but chuckle. There were some things about her that were too predictable. Remembering the item that had fallen out last night, he tapped the front pocket of her backpack. "I put your letter back in there for you. It fell out when I was hanging it up. I promise I didn't open it. It's still sealed." He held up his fingers and gave the time-honored Boy Scout promise.

Trixie tilted her head to the side, blue eyes narrowed in confusion. "Letter?" she mumbled lowly, unsure of what he was talking about. To her knowledge, there wasn't any letter in her backpack. Then she shrugged her shoulders, let the matter drop, and tested the murky waters of a potential relationship. Keeping one eye on him and the other on Honey in the car, she declared with deceptive innocence, "It's a shame Di couldn't come to school with us this morning. Her dad's driving her in today." With her detective instincts alive and thriving, she watched her brother closely and recognized the thinly veiled disappointment he wasn't able to hide. It was probably the same look she got on her face when someone brought up Jim's name, she thought ruefully.

It took an effort but he ignored the pointed statements. He could feel the flush flare up on his cheeks. "It won't be too long until all the Bob-Whites are back together," he mumbled out and hurriedly looked for something else to say. Hooking a thumb at Honey who was tapping her watch in an effort to get Trixie to hurry up, he ordered, "Time to get a move on, Trix. Your chariot's waiting and I think your driver has run out of patience."

Left with no other option, Trixie let him off the hook. Flashing him a small smile of farewell, she bopped down the steps and was at the car door in a heartbeat. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Honey," she apologized quickly and opened the passenger door.

"We've still got a little time." Ever the tactful one, Honey didn't scold her friend. She waved to Mart before he disappeared back into the house. "Mart looks good," she remarked as Trixie settled herself in the passenger seat. "Don't you want to drive?" she offered questioningly.

"Nope, take the wheel." She dropped back into her seat, her early confusion over the letter Mart mentioned temporarily forgotten, and studied Honey with a covert eye. Of course, she was put together perfectly, wearing beige pants, trendy slip-on shoes that matched her outfit, and a soft pink shirt that complemented her coloring beautifully, without a honey-colored hair out of place in her artfully arranged French braid. Trixie had to giggle. How the two of them managed to be the best of friends was really beyond her at times, their differences were that significant, but somehow they clicked and worked, their strengths balancing out each other's weaknesses. They fit together like the proverbial hand and glove. The heiress and the tomboy. She mentioned in a dramatic stage whisper, their conversation from yesterday replaying in her mind, "I think Di may get her wish."

"Really?" She managed to stretch out the word so that it was longer than its normal two syllables, her tone infused with a mixture of humor and anticipation. Honey had a hard time keeping her attention on the road. Her lips turned up at the corners and she gripped the wheel tighter. "Oh, tell me, tell me, Trix!" she pleaded.

"I know you saw that Mart was up at this ungodly hour, which is unusual since he could have slept in 'til noon if he had wanted to, especially on his first day home. Moms wouldn't have cared. She's simply too excited to have him home. Why he decided to get up is behind me," she stated, a little enviously. She couldn't remember if she had ever had the luxury of sleeping in. "But he was up, bright and early. And you know why he was up, right?"

Her hand hit the steering wheel and guessed correctly right out of the gate. "He wanted to see Di."

"He didn't say it exactly but I know that's the reason why he was up this morning." Trixie nodded, her twin dimples winking in her cheeks, softening her features. "As nonchalantly as I could, I told him that it was a shame Di wasn't riding in with us. He got all red and quickly changed the subject." She leaned in as close as her seatbelt would allow her to. "He hasn't dated anyone at college, to my knowledge. I know Dan would have told me if he was. I really think something good will come out of this for the two of them. It wouldn't surprise me at all Di ends up taking him to the prom."

Honey stopped the car at the stop sign and clasped her hands together. "That would be perfectly perfect! Our first Bob-White couple..." She sighed a bit dreamily, wondering if there would be any more Bob-White couples anywhere in the near future. She had a strong wish for the Bob-White she would like to be romantically attached to.

Trixie was thinking the same thing but didn't bring it up. They traveled the rest of the way to school in comfortable silence. When they joined the rest of the cars in the almost completely full parking lot, Trixie turned to Honey and announced firmly, "Don't forget to turn off your cell phone. You know the teachers and administration have been really cutting down on cell-phone usage at school. We're only allowed to have them turned on in the cafeteria at lunch time. My parents think it won't be too long before they won't allow students to have cell phones in the building at all."

Honey proceeded to do just that with a thankful smile. Then she laughed. "It's hard to remember when the only form of communication we had at school was a pay phone. Cell phones certainly come in handy." She carefully placed hers into her backpack and shut the car door.

Together, they walked into the building, calling out greetings to friends and acquaintances, and ready for the start of yet another school day. The promise of the approaching end could be felt in the greetings coming their way, as well as the large smiles and happy, relaxed laughs floating through the air. The students were more jovial than normal, clearly getting ready for the end of the school year and the beginning of the endless and enjoyable summer.

"I'll see you in third period," Trixie told Honey as she headed down the corridor that would take her to her trigonometry class. Having math first thing in the morning was a double-edged sword. On one side, it was a relief to get trig out of the way, right off the bat. On the other, sharper side, it was grueling to keep her still-not-completely awake mind on the complicated subject. She slid into her seat at the back of the class, smiled to the girl next to her, and then took out her homework. After carefully peeled it out of her notebook, she tore it neatly along the perforated edges, the way her teacher preferred. She crumpled up the scraps and tossed them back in her bag.

A glance at the clock told her she had three minutes to spare before the first bell signaled the start of homeroom. She recalled what Mart had said about a letter and lifted her backpack up. "Hmm," she mumbled, an inquisitive line settling on her forehead, and started leafing through her backpack. She finally found a now quite crumpled white envelope in the front pocket. Taking it out, the sides of her lips pulled down in deep concentration, she examined it with the same look Mart had on his face the evening before. She turned it over in her hands, saw that the envelope was blank, and rolled a shoulder. Then she ripped open the seal, too curious to wait to see what could be in the envelope. A piece of normal white paper was revealed just as her teacher, Mr. Jenkins, came in.

"Good morning, class," Mr. Jenkins announced as he sat behind his desk, right as the bell rang. He took out his attendance sheet and began the roll call in his normal dry tone, promptly marking down any student who didn't answer his call.

Trixie gave her response at the appropriate time, grimacing at the hated mention of Beatrix instead of Trixie; Mr. Jenkins was not the type of teacher who allowed nicknames in his class; and used the rest of the roll call to slowly and carefully, making as little noise as possible, pull out the letter from the envelope. She unfolded the white paper. Three black computer-printed words staring back at her, written in Times New Roman. She guessed the size to be about font 6 or possibly 8. The words were tiny and were centered at the top of the page and were certainly not ominous. "I see you," she read under her breath, puzzled by the message.

She had just enough time to slide the note back into her notebook when her teacher approached her desk, his hands out for her homework. Trixie gave it to him with more confidence than normal, glad that Mart had been able to help her, and did her best to focus on the new and challenging topic of the day. She glanced back at the piece of paper more than once during the class, recalling how she had left her backpack in the computer lab, and finally decided it must have been placed there by mistake. It simply made no sense to her.


	5. Chapter 4

Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Four

The morning dragged on, as it normally did on any given Thursday in high school. The anticipation of the weekend was in the air but the reality of another day of school was around to effectively squash it. "Finally," Trixie groaned out when the bell rang, announcing a switch in classes and the start of her lunch wave. She was lucky enough to be able to eat lunch each day with Honey and Di. She headed out of the science lab and joined the large flow of students in the hall. Knowing by experience that it was best to keep to the outsides of the hall, she pressed her body against the lockers and carefully maneuvered her way through the throng.

It was with a great deal of grateful appreciation that she flung open the door to the cafeteria and sat down with her friends at their small round table in the back. She briefly recalled the larger table that used to sit seven of them and bit back a small, sad sigh. There were still times when she wished they could go back in time and freeze it to the way she wanted it to be, with all the Bob-Whites home and in school together. But time was something that couldn't be stopped or bent, no matter how hard she willed it to be. She gave a realistic shrug and decided it was good that at least all seven of them would be in the same city come the fall.

Both Di and Honey already had their lunches in front of them. Di glanced at the growing lunch line, coming to the quick realization that Trixie wouldn't be able to buy lunch and talk with them, too. It looked like she really needed to talk. Di realized that Trixie's normally cheerful face was set in lines of frustration. She gave Trixie her apple immediately. "Tough morning?" she asked sympathetically. It had happened to them all, at one point or another.

Trixie accepted the apple and rolled her eyes. She reached into her backpack and found her granola bar from the morning. Her stomach chose that moment to rumble, reminding her that all she had this morning was her orange juice, hours earlier. Taking a small bite of the apple, she shared the joys of her morning. It made her feel better to have two pairs of compassionate ears. "Well, I got called on twice in trig and looked like a fool both times because I didn't know the answers. Nothing unusual in that but usually Mr. Jenkins doesn't call on me after the first time I mess up. I was surprised he decided it would be a good idea to try me again. Then we were given a pop quiz in our Humanities class. Not just any pop quiz...a written essay." She shuddered in remembered horror. She preferred multiple choice or true/false exams. At least she had a fighting chance with them. "Then, in chemistry, the entire class was given back our most recent assignment and told to completely redo it. We all got it wrong, possibly because we had a substitute teacher for an entire week. The sub was nice and we all had a great time with her but she was certified in elementary ed, not science. To make a long story short, our assignment is due tomorrow."

She tore her turkey sandwich in half as delicately as she could and gave it to Trixie, who took it with a small smile of thanks. Honey also realized there wouldn't be enough time for her to get a lunch and socialize with them. She reached out and patted her friend's hand, her hazel eyes soft with patient understanding. "Sorry about your morning. You've already had quite a day there, Trix."

She munched on her half of the sandwich and nodded. "And how, Honey." She put down the sandwich for a moment and whispered dramatically, "I can only imagine the horrors of the afternoon." Three more classes loomed ahead of her before it was time to call it a day and then there was the homework to look forward to.

Di gave an exaggerated shiver. It didn't sound very pleasant. "Enough with this depressing school talk." After consulting her watch, she proclaimed, "We have precisely eighteen minutes left until it's time to focus on academics again. So, no more talk about school or classes or homework. Let's talk about something happier."

In-between bites of her makeshift lunch, courtesy of her friends and her uneaten breakfast, Trixie checked her cell phone and immediately felt better. She could always count on Mart. She grinned at the text from Mart and held it out to her friends so that they could see it, too. "Bored, bored, BORED!!!!" he had written to her, causing all of them to collapse in a fit of mirthful giggles. "I had a feeling he would have a tough time adjusting to the quiet country life again," Trixie exclaimed, her laughter entirely at her brother's expense, and wiped away a loose tear.

Honey's face lit up as an idea came to her. "Tell him he can exercise the horses," she suggested helpfully. "As both of you know, Regan's gone for rest of the week and he wants to have the horses exercised as much as possible. Maybe he wouldn't mind taking care of a few of them over the next few days. Except for Jupiter, of course. You have to have red hair to ride him." It was a known fact. No one ever went against it. Trixie had learned the hard way when she was thirteen. Even she, the most impetuous one in their group, had never tried to ride him again.

She liked it, knowing that it would give more of a purpose to Mart's extremely open days. "Good idea." Trixie typed it in quickly and then read the immediate reply. It seemed like Mart must have had his phone right next to them, ready and able to type back a text as soon as she had responded. He must really be bored, she thought as she read aloud, "Already taken care of Starlight and Strawberry...leaving Lady and Susie to you two squaws."

"That's just like Mart," Di sang out and then sighed. She hastily changed the subject when Trixie and Honey stared at her, not wanting to travel down the road of her unrequited love with her friends during a school lunch period. That would be a little too uncomfortable, she thought. "We'll almost have the entire group back together this weekend. Five out of the seven. It's been eons since we've all been together."

"My thoughts exactly." Honey finished her sandwich, took a dainty sip of her apple juice, and then declared, her hazel eyes glittering with sudden joy, "We'll still be short two Bob-Whites but I was thinking it would be a nice idea to have a picnic on Sunday. Dan and Regan are due back in the late morning so he would definitely be able to make it. I bet he'd love to spend the afternoon with us. It's been too long since we've seen him, too. Mart's already here, of course, and obviously bored already, so that won't be a problem. Plus there'll be lots of food there. We can count on him. He's never turned down a picnic. We could easily set one up for the early afternoon." The words tumbled out fast as her pretty face flushed with the excitement of the plan.

"That sounds perfectly lovely!" Trixie finished the apple and placed the core on the table, surprisingly full from her pieced together meal. "We could have it at the boathouse. I don't think the water would be warm enough yet for a swim but you never know." She was always the happiest when there was a plan afoot, no matter how big or trivial. A welcome home picnic for two of the returning college men would be wonderful.

Di gave her friends a large smile. A get-together would mean time spent with Mart, and that received the highest rating in her book. Maybe they would even get to spend some time alone. That was always a hot commodity within their circle of friends, something very difficult to achieve. There always seemed to be at least two or more of their friends hanging around, which was wonderful except when she wanted to be alone with one other significant person. Then she may even be able to gather up the courage to ask him to the prom...she didn't have that much time left. The prom was only two and a half weeks away, on Memorial Day Weekend, and the pressure was starting to box her in. She didn't like not having a date. That thought caused her to bit her lip nervously before she chimed in with, "I like it. Then, with Jim and Brian getting back to town next week, we could have another picnic or party the following weekend. Everyone will be able to attend that party."

Honey and Trixie nodded their joint agreement, both pleased with their plans. "Sounds great," Honey said mirthfully, clapping her hands together, already envisioning the parties and the good times in her mind. There wasn't anything that could equal a Bob-White get-together in her book. She searched for a notebook and pen and flopped them down on the table, ready to start scribing. "We can start planning what we'll need. It will be just like old times."

Unexpectedly, the tune, _Barbie Girl_, by Aqua came from Trixie's cell phone. She glanced at it as if it was a snake ready to strike, aghast at the music and lyrics pouring out of her phone, and then burst into another fit of merry laughter that had her friends staring at her like she was crazy as she realized what had happened. "It would seem Mart has changed my ring tone on me again," she explained through her chortles of glee. Her hands shook with amusement as she reached for the phone, shaking her head at his cleverness. "He does that periodically, you know."

"We know. I couldn't imagine you ever choosing that song," Di put in, her lovely violet eyes crinkling in merriment. Such a silly thing to do and so Mart. She rather wished he would change the ring tone on her phone. Wouldn't that be a sign that he cared more for her than just being a friend? she thought before she rejoined the conversation. "I have never pictured you as a Barbie Girl."

Honey wasted no time in agreeing. "I think I remember Brian saying once that you decapitated the few Barbies that you had and used their heads as baseballs. After that, no one ever gave you another one, not even your Aunt Alicia." It wasn't too hard to imagine. Trixie was not the type to ever have been content playing with dolls.

Trixie grinned at her friends before looking at the number that came up on her screen. She didn't recognize it. "Hello?" she said, somewhat hesitatingly, into the phone. No answer, just the quick click of a hang-up. "No answer," she explained to the expectant looks on her friends' faces.

"That happens to mine all the time," Di said with a small moan. She pressed her hand to her forehead and declared forcefully, "My number must be close to a lot of others in the area. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've answered my phone and not have anyone there or have someone else on the line who claims that _I_ am the one in the wrong for not having the right number, if you know what I mean! Why, I remember, there was this one lady who called and absolutely insisted that I must be Crimper's Department Store. She wouldn't believe she had made a mistake in dialing a wrong number, no matter how nice I tried to be to her. I hated to do it but I finally had to hang up on her. She wouldn't stop arguing with me."

It was a lengthy and discombobulated explanation but Trixie and Honey understood it completely before dissolving into another set of laughter, causing more than one pair of eyes to swing to the threesome, some with envy at the close bond that existed between the three, others with appreciation at the glowing, happy faces of the girls. Following the school rules, Trixie made sure to turn off her cell phone and put it back in its rightful place.

"When do you want to go riding?" Honey asked Trixie.

She started to answer but then sputtered to a disappointing stop. "I'd love to ride today but I can't. I have that Chem assignment to redo," she lamented with a strong pain of regret. As much as she wanted the freedom of riding the horses, she knew she wouldn't be able to do it."It's due tomorrow. I doubt I'll be able to get out of the house with the rest of my homework and chores." She grimaced at the thought. Homework and chores were too of her least favorite things to do. "Bobby wants Mart and I to go watch his baseball game tomorrow afternoon, so Friday's out, too. Would Saturday be okay?"

It was easy to see that her friend was getting swamped in homework and other responsibilities. Honey quickly agreed to the day. "We'll make it a date. Saturday morning. Let's say, nine o'clock? That way we can both sleep in a bit and we'll be able to get to the Country Club for our meeting at one." She turned to Di, wanting to include her, too. Ever the thoughtful one, Honey knew that she sometimes felt excluded, although she was too kind to ever admit it. "Would you want to go riding with us?"

"I would love to but I can't," Di declined easily but gifted Honey with a grateful smile. "I have to help my mother take both sets of twins shopping for summer clothes in the morning. It promises to be a lot fun." Her roll of the eyes belied her words. "But I'll be back in time for our induction meeting at the Club so I'll see you both there."

Trixie glanced at the large clock hanging high above the students. It seemed that the clock always ruled her life with a tight, iron fist when she was present in school. She couldn't wait until she finally graduated and wouldn't have to be such a slave to it anymore. It told her there were ten minutes left until her next period. Luckily for her, it was a much-needed study hall, and the monitoring teacher was kind enough to let her students bring in drinks. "I'm going to get a drink from the vending machine outside of the gym. Thanks for lunch, ladies! I'll see you after school." Gathering her things, she headed out of the cafeteria and down the long corridor to the gym.

She only passed a few people in the hallway. It wasn't too long before she made it to the vending machines. Frowning, she checked her options and wasn't all that surprised with the single item that was available: water. All the other choices were sold out and hadn't been replenished. "That's the type of day this is turning out to be," she muttered harshly to herself. It took a minute but she was finally able to fish out the exact change she needed and placed it in the machine. She pushed the button, fervently wishing for something else besides water, and waited for the bottle to drop.

Intent on her chore, the loud crash behind her caused her to jump, startled, and made her heart rate start racing, tripling its normal pace. Her water forgotten, she turned to the sound, her large eyes wide and suspicious, with just a small hint of fear.

"Sorry about that, Trixie," the gym teacher, Coach Miller, apologized with a sheepish smile. He bent down and picked up two of the hand weights that had slipped out of his hands, the reason for the crash. "I'm afraid I bit off a little more than I could chew. I'm returning the weights to the weight room from the gymnasium. A few of my students wanted to use them today in class. Unfortunately, I thought I could handle carrying all of them at once."

Her heart slowed to its normal pace. "No problem, Coach Miller." Always enjoying helping out others, Trixie retrieved the other sets and placed them solidly against the wall. "It was so quiet in here. I didn't even hear you walking behind me. The noise startled me, that's all."

He placed his sets in the neat row she had made, stood up to face her, and remarked casually, "I saw your brother at his Little League game two nights okay. I was very impressed by his pitching. He's doing very well but I shouldn't be surprised. He is a Belden, after all."

Trixie joined in his laughter. Both her brothers had excelled at the sport, too. "He loves baseball," she replied, always happy to talk about any of her brothers. "Lives and breathes it now. We were all sort of surprised by how naturally pitching came to him this season. It's his first year for that position. He'd always been content playing the outfield."

"I doubt he'll be put in right field anymore," Coach Miller said insightfully. "He's a very good pitcher, one of the best I've seen at such a young age. He has a surprising amount of control and can also regulate his speed beautifully. He'll need to keep practicing but I'm looking forward to having him in the high school in a few years. You'll tell him I said that, right?" Mr. Miller was also the baseball coach and he kept an eye out on the younger talent. Young Bobby Belden had serious potential.

Trixie beamed at the praise. "I'll be glad to." Bobby would be very pleased. He'd probably make Mart catch for him in the yard the entire evening, with their father cheering them on, while she had to finish her homework. "It'll make him very happy." She motioned to the weights on the floor. "Can I help you bring them back to the weight room?"

"I appreciate it, Trixie, but you don't have enough time. There's only three minutes left before the next period starts and I know you aren't one of the students in either of the gym classes." He gave her a smile and bent down to retrieve two sets of weights this time. "Have a great day."

She watched the Coach walk towards the weight room at the far end of the hall, then turned back to vending machine. "My water!" she exclaimed, almost forgetting the entire reason for her side trip. She stepped back up to the vending machine, reached down for her water, and then slowly stood up. An odd feeling overcame her, one she couldn't put her finger on, and one she couldn't explain. It suddenly felt like someone was near her or watching her. A small frown on her face, she turned back and sent a long, telling glance down the corridor that appeared to be completely empty to her intensely searching eyes. Nothing at all that she could see, except for the remaining weights on the floor, and the sound of the weight room door closing behind the coach.

Nervously chuckling at what she perceived to be her own silly foolishness, she couldn't ignore the slight bit of uneasiness that threatened to overcome her, for no real reason she could even attempt to decipher. But she had learned a long time ago to never go against her instincts and her instincts were telling her that she was unsettled, for some inexplicable reason, and that it would be in her best interest to leave as swiftly as she could. Her feet moved a little quicker as she hurried down the hall, tossing one last glance down the hallway, and more than a little eager to rejoin the flow of students heading to their next class. She heaved a sigh a relief the second that she did.


	6. Chapter 5

Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Five

The sight of the stables at Manor House made Trixie feel alive again, a feeling she had been missing over the past two days. Between school, and her dreaded trig and chemistry homework, she had felt stifled and beleaguered and unable to truly revel in much of anything. The only enjoyable outing of the past two days had been Bobby's baseball game the afternoon before. He had pitched a wonderful game, giving up two hits and no runs, and had led his team to another win.

She slid back the wide door to the stables and yelled inside, "Hello? Honey? Are you here yet?" No answer. Knowing she was early, she went further into the stables, patting the muzzles of each curious horse in turn and greeting them happily until she got to her beloved Susie. "Hey, Susie," she murmured to the house, taking out a small cube of sugar she had brought from home and offering it to the mare, who ate it up quickly. "I've missed you. I'm going to enjoy our ride today." She rubbed her cheek against the warm fur of Susie's face.

Reluctantly drawing back, she set about getting the tack ready for the ride. While she worked she thought back to the past two days. That same eerie feeling that had assaulted her near the gym in school had come over her again at Bobby's baseball game, like someone was focusing in on her with an intensity she couldn't understand but could almost touch. Unfortunately, she had never been able to discover where the potential look or interest had been coming from or if it had even existed. There was a good chance it was all in her imagination. She simply didn't know.

Her inquisitive and trained eyes had scanned the crowds but had seen nothing but relaxed, cheering fans. She didn't know if the sensation of being watched was real. If it was real, she couldn't decide if it was attached to the strange note that had been placed in her backpack or not. With so many doubts and inconclusive conclusions, she had elected to not tell anyone about her experiences. Really, what could she say? There was a blank envelope in my bag with an odd message in it? Sometimes she feel watched? It sounded preposterous and flimsy, even to her. And what would anyone do, except laugh at her? She wasn't setting herself up to be the butt of anyone's joke, especially Mart's. She had had enough of that during the shark sightings of a few years earlier and flat-out refused to put herself in that kind of position again. No more laughter at her expense.

She left her work to peer up at the Manor House through a window. Tapping the glass, she wondered aloud, "What could be keeping Honey?" Not that it would be that unusual for Honey to be late

"Hello, Trixie," a welcome voice, much huskier and decidedly unfeminine and definitely not Honey Wheeler's, called out from behind her.

She knew who the voice belonged to. Whirling around, she witnessed the best sight she had seen in the longest time. Her worries faded into the distant air. "Jim," she breathed out slowly. He was standing not more than five feet from her, a grin on his face and his green eyes twinkling at her. Going on impulse, not taking the time to think if her exuberant display was warranted or not, she practically flew to him. He didn't mind it. In fact, he relished it as he opened his arms to her, caught her to him tightly, and twirled her around in a series of small circles, finally coming to a breathless stop. Trixie's delighted laughs faded as she became a little more conscious of her excited reaction to his arrival. A becoming blush stained her cheeks as she nervously tucked a loose curl behind her ear. "I, uh, I didn't realize you were coming home early. I thought you were supposed to come home on Tuesday."

He thought the pink on her cheeks made her even more adorable. Keeping a light hand on her waist, simply because he didn't want to let go yet and craved the feel of her, he explained softly, "I made a quick decision yesterday after I turned in my project. No more finals for me! I thought I'd rather be here, in Sleepyside, than back in the City. So I packed up and here I am."

She couldn't have been happier. Her expressive face told him that. "Brian didn't come back, though." The two always traveled back and forth together. "Did he?" she asked after a short, pregnant pause. Maybe she had missed him at home. It was unlikely but it could have happened. She'd been busy with chores all morning. There was certainly the chance he'd been peacefully sleeping the morning away up in his room while she worked below.

"No," Jim assured her quickly, thankful she hadn't pulled away from his touch yet. "He still has two finals left. Two big finals. I have a feeling he's going to enjoy having our student apartment to himself for the next few days. He'll have all the peace and quiet he needs to study. I promised him I'd drive back in on Tuesday and pick him up. He seemed okay with that and wanted me to tell everyone that he misses them."

"That's nice," she responded, feeling like an idiot. She didn't know what to say next and was really starting to regret her impulsive welcome. She had never been that boisterous before, mainly because she had always had time to prepare herself for his arrival. This was the first time he had ever taken her by complete and utter surprise. Hopefully Jim hadn't read too much into it. She'd simply die if he figured out her feelings for him and didn't return them.

Then she looked down at her clothes and smothered a small sigh. Her faded blue jeans were the oldest ones she had. There was an attractive tear in her one knee, as well as a hole starting well below the loop on her left backside. She ran her finger over that particular hole, wishing she could hide it, and fervently hoping that he didn't notice it. Then there was her shirt. It was one of her favorites, light blue in color, and was showing the wear of one too many washings. Due to the shrinking, it had been regulated to the back of her closet. She had only pulled it out today because she had thought Honey was the only one who would see her in it. The shirt was more snug fitting than the ones she normally wore and rode just a smidgeon higher than she was comfortable with. She attempted to pull it down to meet the top of her jeans but failed miserably. Then she thought about the ball cap she had hastily thrown on top of her head with a small frown. Dressed to impress, she thought sarcastically.

He was noticing but not in the way she thought. He was having a bit of trouble keeping his eyes off the belly button that kept peeping below her shirt when she moved her arms. He couldn't help but see that the jeans were molded to her, outlining her athletic legs to perfection, and sent up a small prayer for much-needed strength. High school graduation, high school graduation, high school graduation, kept running through his mind. The hat only made her more adorable, framing her face and bringing out the deep blue of her eyes. One of the best things about her was her complete and total innocence. She had absolutely no idea how attractive she was or the effect it had on him. If she ever figured it out and used that knowledge against him, he figured he'd be sunk and begging for mercy within ten seconds.

It took a while, the two of them seemed content to stare at each other, but Trixie eventually questioned, "Where is Honey?"

His lips turned up at the corners in the lopsided grin she knew so well and helped put her at ease. "You're probably wondering where Honey is," he mentioned at the same time. Both of them laughed.

"Honey...yes," Trixie answered haltingly. She motioned with her hands to the horses staring at them in the stables, in case he hadn't realized why she was there. "I was supposed to meet her here at nine for a ride."

He nodded. It took a Herculean effort but he somehow managed to keep his eyes on hers and not on the toned skin of her belly that was now exposed. "Well, Honey got a phone call earlier from Di. It turns out that Di's mom cancelled their planned shopping trip due to the girls having a bad cold so Di decided to work on a project she has due. She asked Honey to come over to help."

"Oh." She couldn't keep the disappointment out of her eyes. She had really been looking forward to a ride. "I guess I'll put everything back then." She turned to do just that.

And he saw the back of the jeans. The blood rushed southward from his head as he noticed the small hole, high enough on her backside to still be on the modest side but large enough to give him a sneak peak at what was underneath. Green. She would have to be wearing green panties. He swore lightly under his breath and knocked his forehead against the stall.

Trixie turned back immediately. "Jim? Are you okay?"

"Stubbed my toe," he lied without a qualm and shook his foot for good measure. When she went back to put away the equipment, he caught her arm and gently pulled her back around. "You know Honey better than that. Before she left to go help Di she offered me the opportunity to go riding with you instead. Of course, I said yes."

"Oh." Her tone was much different, higher-pitched and hopeful. It was even better than riding with Honey. "Well, that's very nice of you. You don't mind riding first thing this morning?" she questioned cautiously.

Uninterrupted time with Trixie? He didn't mind that at all. And nice wasn't the word he would use to describe it. Trying to keep it easy between them, he chucked her on the arm. "Well, there is a lot on my plate right now. Let's see...I could sleep, I could eat, I could watch a little tv or play on the computer, and...that's about it," he replied drily. "In other words, going riding with you would make a long day much more interesting. You'd be helping me out, really."

"Mart's been going through that, too," Trixie shared, understanding where he was coming from. "I guess it's college withdrawal. He's been a little bored the past few days."

"That'll change once Dan gets back and they start working together," he noted. They worked in companionable silence, leading Susie and Starlight out of their stalls and began the work of readying the eager horses for a welcome ride. "Then Mart will be complaining that he has too much to do."

"You know my brother well," she replied, laughing. They made short work of getting the horses ready. She threw a confused look at Starlight, surprised he had picked that particular horse.

"I took Jupe out after I got home yesterday," he explained when he saw the unasked question in her eyes. He didn't add that one of the first things he had done was to go to Crabapple Farm under the pretense of letting the Belden's know that he would go back in to the City to pick Brian up on Tuesday. It had been an excuse, a poor excuse, he knew, but the only one he could come up with. His true aim had been to see Trixie. But, as luck would have it, they hadn't been home so he had settled for a quiet ride on Jupiter. Honey hadn't been able to join him, too intent on finishing a paper. The solitude had been fine, allowing him to think about his past year at college and the dwindling weeks until someone's highly anticipated high school graduation, although he would rather have had company on the long, exhilirating ride through the game preserve.

They mounted their horses with ease and were soon enjoying the spring morning. The birds were chirping merrily while bees loitered above the wildflowers sprouting up in the woods. "Where do you want to go?" Trixie asked as she cantered besides him.

"How about the bluffs?" he suggested after a moment of deep thought. It took a while to get to the bluffs and back, giving him a nice chunk of time with Trixie, but would also allow them enough time to clean the tack and take care of the horses before Trixie had to get ready for her meeting at the Country Club. Honey had shared their schedule with him.

"I like that. Sounds great." She started forward on the trail, being careful to watch out for the unexpected, and led the way. They didn't talk on the way, simply enjoyed the presence of the other, as well as the peacefulness brought on by the ride. It was a peacefulness she hadn't even been aware she had been missing. It settled around her, cocooned her, and made her feel truly like herself for the first time since she had read that note. She didn't know if she should thank the ride or Jim for the welcome feeling.

Before they knew it, they were close to the bluffs. Jim pulled Starlight to a halt and slid off the with practiced ease. Trixie wanted to avert her eyes but didn't. She watched in admiration the way his tall, athletic body moved and swallowed her own sigh. Tamping down on one's feelings was difficult, especially when they were such great friends. She didn't want to do anything to ever lose his friendship. She followed suit by rote, her mind clouded with other, almost forbidden thoughts. Holding tight to the reins, she walked over to a patiently waiting Jim.

"I think we should tie the horses here," he decided, pointing to an area deep with shade. The horses would be cool and would have plenty of grass to eat. "They'll be fine here while we stretch our legs for a moment."

After the horses were taken care of and enjoying the sweet green grass growing on the ground, he held out his hand for hers, like he had done countless times before. She didn't even need to think, reacted on instinct, and trustingly put her smaller hand right in his larger one. Together they walked to the edge of the bluffs and looked down at the wide expanse of the Hudson River below them.

"It's magnificent, isn't it?" Trixie asked, taking in the glorious and powerful sight of the wide, flowing river below them. The forceful strength of the river was hidden behind a deceptive surface, smooth as glass but as dangerous as the sharpest of swords. She had past experience with the awesome power that the river wielded. Her respect came from that time she would never be able to forget.

He wasn't thinking of that long-ago escape from a diving car. His mind was on other things, like the young woman standing next to him. "Yeah," he whispered back, but not meaning the river was magnificent. She was. The gentle wind lifted the exposed blonde curls, sending them in a joyful dance around her face. Her face was filled with the wonder that came from the very soul of her, allowing her to appreciate the smaller things that most people missed. Her eyes, the ones that haunted his dreams and made sleep difficult at times for him, sparkled with joy. If she had taken the time to look back, she would have seen the truth shining within his own deep green eyes.

"Honey mentioned that you are going to be working at the Community Center this summer," she said, leaning a hip on a large boulder, still focused on the river below them.

He sat down next to her, only the barest amount of space separating them, and shared with her his summer plans. "I'm excited about the job. I'll get to work with the preteens, planning special activities for any that want to come to Center through the summer, and interacting with them. It'll be good experience for me. I'll be able to put it to good use when I open up my school."

"Plus you'll be amazing at it," Trixie put in with a knowing smile. He could do no wrong in her eyes. "You'll have those preteen boys idolizing you and the girls giggling through their first preadolescent love."

He blushed a bit at that and hoped she wasn't right. Idolizing boys he could deal with but little girls with crushes? On him? He didn't want to go there. "I start up the week before your graduation. They give the counselors one full week of planning. Then we start the first Monday after school lets out."

It made sense. The kids would have something to do immediately following the blessed release from school. Hopefully it would help prevent some of them from getting into trouble. "I'll have to ask Bobby if he's interested in attending. Could you imagine if he, Larry and Terry decide to enroll in the program?" Her laugh was full, rich and directed at him. They would be in his group.

"Thanks a lot." He pushed her shoulder gently, enough to tease but not enough to knock her off. "You're wishing those three hoodlums on me?"

"They would have the time of their lives. I doubt you would but I know for sure that Bobby, Terry and Larry would." Her giggles came to a slow stop at the sarcastic tilt of his eyebrows and she lifted her hands. "Okay, okay, we'll shelve that scenario and focus on something else," she gave in with good grace.

"What about you? Are you looking forward to being a lifeguard for the summer?" He had only made it to the Country Club twice last summer. He had a strong feeling he would be a more frequent visitor there this year. Seeing her in her lifeguard bathing suit would be more than worth it.

"Definitely. I can't wait to work with Honey. We have our induction meeting today but you already know that. I think we have to fill out paperwork, learn the rules and expectations of the Club, plus get our first schedule." She spoke with excitement and anticipation, clearly looking forward to her first official working experience. "Di's working there, too. She's going to be a receptionist. She did not want to have anything to do with becoming a lifeguard." A horse's sharp whinny that they correctly identified as Susie's cut through the air, interrupting them.

Jim glanced back, eyes narrowed, but saw nothing amiss. Susie was once again contentedly munching on the grass without a care, with Starlight near her but giving her some space. He must have gotten too close, he decided, knowing that Susie did not like to have her space encroached upon. "Your meeting's at one, right?"

She gave a quick nod and then settled back. "It'll be my first actual job. Honey said that she had a blast working there last year. I was a little envious. I can remember wishing that I had completed the lifeguard course then so I could work with her."

"I hear there's going to be a picnic tomorrow," Jim mentioned easily. "Something about celebrating the return of a few Bob-Whites?"

Trixie flashed him a cheeky grin. "It was supposed to be for Mart and Dan but I think we can squeeze you in too, Mr. Frayne."

"I appreciate that," he responded sarcastically. Then he glanced down at his watch, did a quick calculation of the time, and gave in gracefully. All good things must come to an end, he realized with a disappointment that cut straight through him, and it was unfortunately time for them to call it a day. "We'd better start back, Trix, if you want to be able to get ready on time."

She felt the same vein of disappointment. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I wouldn't want to be late for my first official meeting." She stood up and sent one last look over the river. It had been an amazing morning, one she hadn't expected but one that she had truly enjoyed. She would have to remember to thank Honey and briefly pondered if her friend really had to help Di with a project or if Honey had cunningly set the ride up between the two of them. She wouldn't put it past her. Then she followed Jim back to the horses.

Both horses were untethered quickly and ready to be mounted. From his position behind them, Jim held onto Starlight's reins and decided to watch Trixie in action with Susie. He was only human, he thought with a small grin of pure male appreciation, and rocked back on his heels, preparing himself to enjoy the show.

Not feeling his gaze on her, concentrating on the steps needed to mount the horse, Trixie put her foot in the stirrup and hoisted herself up, unaware of the way the worn material pulled across her bottom or how the hole widened to reveal even more of the green underneath. She swung her leg over with a swift motion that told of many successful years of riding, and settled herself in the saddle, like any other time she had climbed on the horse she considered her own.

Then she was met with the most unpleasant surprise of her life. The second her full weight settled on Susie, the little mare went wild. Whinnying loudly, she lifted her front legs, pawing the air madly, and bucked with a crazy intensity that even the most experienced rider couldn't have controlled. She threw her rider high into the air and then burst like a shot through the trees, her hooves pounding the ground with an undeniable force and her loud whinnies floating back to them. Trixie had time to draw a quick breath as images of the green leaves on the surrounding trees and the brilliant blue sky blurred together in an unforgettable kaleidoscope of dizzying colors before she landed hard on the unforgiving ground, her breath completely knocked out of her and unshed tears of pain pooling in her eyes.


	7. Chapter 6

Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Six

"Trixie." Her name burst past his shocked lips. He was at her side in an instant, his knees next to her hip, and leaned over her. He stared at her with a mixture of shock and caring and then bit back a gasp of horror at the hard, pointed rock only six inches from where her head lay, cushioned on the long green grass. Without wasting a second, he shifted his body to block it, not wanting her to see how close she had come to something extremely disastrous. Crouching down, he studied her face closely, taking in the pale white that had stolen across it, her slack lips and the few tears that slipped past her closed eyelids. He desperately wanted to see her blue eyes. "No, no," he denied softly, her tears nearly doing him in. "Don't do that." With shaking hands he wiped away the tears. "I hate it when you cry."

She opened her eyes at the soothing touch, met green eyes swirling with concern and something else she was too dazed to interpret. She focused in on him, needing him to help her through the pain; not seeing the signs of the beautiful spring day carrying on around them. Her eyes were alight with pain and a touch of confusion and the remains of tears she didn't want to shed. Crying was something she did not like to give in to, was something she fought hard not to do. It was difficult but she managed to hold back the urge. "Jim," she whispered back, her voice hoarse and wobbly, and tiny tremors of fear and belated panic shooting through her.

The relief he felt when she looked at him was immense. One worry down. Now he needed to start checking off the rest of them. "Trixie," he repeated, relieved that she was awake and not unconscious, and felt himself stop shaking. She was going to be all right, he knew it. The fall hadn't inflicted any serious, long-lasting injury. Now he had to discover if there were any other injuries.

"What happened?" she asked with a shake of her head, a little groggy and unsure, but it all came back to her the second he started to talk.

"Susie threw you," he explained quickly. When she made a move to lift her head off the ground, he was there. Concerned hands touched her shoulders, held her down, gently but insistently. "No, Trix, not yet. Let me check you over first. I want to make sure that you are fine." In other words, he wanted to search for broken bones, but he didn't tell her that, not wanting to worry her anymore than she already was. "Do you hurt anywhere?"

She closed her eyes and focused in on the countless aches. "I don't hurt in any one place. I kind of ache all over." The worst part was her bottom but she didn't want him to know that. She figured that part of her body must have hit first, taking the brunt of her fall. Better than her head, she thought with a realistic shrug.

"I'm not a doctor but that's probably a good thing. I'd be more concerned if you had a pain in one place or if you didn't feel anything at all." He immediately starting working, competently running his hands over one arm and then the other, lightly checking her rib cage for any signs of bruising or broken bones, and finally ended up feeling each leg carefully from thigh to foot. He tried to remain true to his honorable objective and refused to note any pleasure at the feel of her compact body under his hands. It was tough, he was only human, after all, but he managed to keep a vicious grip on the more primitive thoughts that were begging for an escape. She was hurt. That alone was enough to keep them at bay.

It felt too good to stay on the ground, almost comforting against the pain that had blossomed so sharply and intensely. Trixie laid there, uncharacteristically still and quiet, letting him run his hands over her to make certain there wasn't anything broken or sprained. She didn't grimace in pain during any part of his search, only watched him with unfathomable eyes as he examined her with such infinite care. Later she would remember how nice it was to have him touch her in such a complete and focused way. His touch was gentle and sure and made her long for something she didn't understand. He didn't miss a part of her body, even lifting her head to make sure she didn't have any bumps or cuts there. She had a hard time breathing through it all and finally released a small gasp of air when he came to an end.

"You feel good," he said huskily after checking each part of her, his words taken on two separate meanings, one hidden and only for him; the other one very obvious. She only caught the obvious one, much to his relief. It wasn't time yet for declarations of something entirely different from friendship. "There's nothing broken, Trixie."

She didn't want to try and sit up just yet. "Just bruised, then." It was a relief. She really didn't want any broken bones, especially with the school year coming to a close and her summer job starting. It would be hard to fulfill her duties as a lifeguard with a part of her body in a cast.

"Well, you hit the ground hard," he explained carefully. He was still crouched over, still ready to offer any assistance that he could. His handsome face blocked out the bright light, giving her much-needed shade from the sun high above them. Unable to resist, he smoothed his hands over her blonde head. She had lost her baseball cap somewhere in the tumble and her curls were in a riotous tumble that he simply had to touch.

Now that she knew her body was fine, bruised a bit but with nothing seriously wrong, it was time to start feeling the annoying sting of embarrassment. It had prickers that went deep, that stole into her and made her hurt in a different way. It had been a very long time since she had been thrown from a horse. And it had to happen in front of Jim, who happened to be the best rider of them all, as well as the recipient of her hopefully well-hidden crush, she thought with an inward groan. If she was the type to curse she imagined she could have turned the air around them blue but she had to settle for a small sigh instead. While the attention was certainly welcome, she couldn't help but wish she hadn't earned it by doing something so juvenile. "Susie threw me?" she questioned even though she remembered the unavoidable toss, hoping he didn't see the flush working its way up from her toes.

He nodded and was pathetically grateful to see color returning to her pale face, bringing back life to her uncommonly waxen features, and unaware of the embarrassment she was successfully hiding. "I don't know what happened. You had barely had time to sit down in the saddle before she went wild. I've never seen Susie do something like that before." He had a strong feeling that the scene would replay in his mind through many nights to come and cause him a few sleepless moments. It had been awful to watch. He'd been unable to do anything to prevent it.

"Well, I've never felt her do something like that before," she grumbled and made a move to sit up.

He was ready to help, insisted upon it. "Here, let me," he murmured softly, using his hands to gentle wrap around her waist and guided her into a sitting position. He didn't let go but stayed as close as he could to her and pulled her head to rest against his chest, in case she felt dizzy or disoriented. "Do you feel comfortable?"

She nodded, her head rubbing against his chest, and could hear the rhythm of his heart against her ear, surprised to find it beating so fast and quick. He must have been really scared, she thought with a blinding flash of insight, and made her wonder what she must have looked like when she had tumbled off of the horse. It couldn't have been a pretty scene, not by his reaction, and one she simply didn't understand. "What did I do wrong?" she asked him lowly, hoping he had an answer, and needing to reason it out.

"Nothing. You did absolutely nothing wrong," he informed her swiftly. He didn't tell her he had been pleasurably studying her and that he hadn't missed a single move of hers. He could say with one hundred percent certainty that Trixie hadn't made a wrong move. "You were perfect. You did everything right. Something had to have happened to Susie. Maybe she was stung or..." he paused and tilted his head off to one side. He couldn't think of anything else that could have possibly made gentle Susie react so violently. The mare adored Trixie. "Well, that's all I can think of. I don't know why she would have become angry all of a sudden. It's very unlike her."

"That makes me feel a little better. I'm glad I didn't do something to cause it happen." She blushed more at the praise and felt immensely better. Jim never wasted his words. If he said something, he meant it, and she couldn't have been more pleased, especially now that the pain had started to recede and was more a dull throb than anything else. A few Motrin ought to help and would be the first thing she sought once she got home. She even thought she'd be brave enough to attempt to stand in a few minutes but for now, she was more than content to stay in the circle of his arms.

He wasn't in any hurry to let her leave but was careful to keep his arms loose around her. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable or force her to leave by being too greedy. Instead, he enjoyed the way she fit against him. Simple, sweet, and perfect. There wasn't any doubt about that in his mind. He breathed in deep, taking in the smell of her shampoo. It was clean with a hint of something fruity. Possibly strawberry or raspberry or maybe even peach. He didn't know or particularly care. He simply enjoyed the smell and laid his head on top of hers. They sat like that for a while, both comfortable, and in a relaxed silence. Neither one wanted to be the first to break the contact or to speak. While he didn't like the reason why she was in his arms, he wasn't going to be the one to end it. And Trixie simply enjoyed the comfort he was giving her.

But Trixie knew that all good things had to come to an end. She had responsibilities she needed to take care of and not much time left. They still had to get back to the stables, take care of the horses, and then she needed to get ready for her meeting. She reluctantly lifted her head and stared at Starlight, who was only a few yards away. A feeling of peace overcame her as she watched him swish his tail while he munched on the grass. "I guess we should be getting back." Her body was ready to make the attempt.

"Are you able to stand up?" He drew back and studied her again. She looked much different, more like herself. He nodded in appreciation. Her eyes were their normal blue, the paleness was gone, and she wasn't shaking.

"I think so." With his help she stood, a bit wobbly at first, but with more confidence as the seconds passed. It helped that there wasn't any more dizziness and that her mind felt much clearer. She still hurt but it was more distant, with the promise of an end to it soon. "Yeah, I think I can make it, Jim. I feel much more like myself than before."

He took his arms away from her waist, a bit reluctantly, and walked over to fetch Starlight, keeping her in sight the entire time, in case she should need him. But she didn't. She bounced back with the resiliency she was known for. Her strength had returned and she was ready to move on. He brought the placid horse back over to her. "I figure we can ride Starlight together. You should probably ride in front instead of in back. That way I could catch you if you start to fall."

She didn't think she was going to fall but didn't tell him that. The thought of riding double with him behind her was a little too delicious for words. She nodded, her cursed blush returning yet again, and let him help her mount the horse. Starlight behaved beautifully, standing majestically as his riders got on him, and began trotting away in the direction Jim gave him.

They didn't talk much, both remembering the earlier incident, both feeling immense relief that nothing serious had occurred. While he enjoyed the feel of her in front of him, he couldn't truly enjoy it, not with what it could have cost her. He couldn't stop thinking about that rock that she could have landed on, so near to her head. They wouldn't be having such a nice ride back if her head had made contact with it. He gave a brief of prayer of thanks, grateful that fate had stepped in and looked out for her during the unexpected accident.

Trixie tried not to focus on the way their bodies periodically touched during the ride back to the stables. A hand brushing her hip, her back against his chest, his warm breath on her neck, or her hand accidently coming into contact with his leg. It was disconcerting. It was exhilarating. And it was something she was sure to dream about. She closed her eyes, wondered what he really thought about it, but didn't have anywhere close to the nerve to turn around look at him or ask him about it.

As they neared the Manor House, she chewed on her lip nervously and shared a bothersome thought. "Do you think Susie made it home, Jim?" It worried her. She wouldn't want anything to happen to the horse.

"They always do. She's probably right at the stables or munching on the flowers in the garden. She knows her way home, Trix. You don't have to worry about her," he assured her quietly. "If she's not home when we get there, she will be soon. I guarantee it."

Sure enough, when they exited the path, the little black mare was right near the entrance to the stable, looking as happy and content as normal. Trixie wasted no time in dismounting, much to Jim's chagrin. He'd been looking forward to a few more minutes with her. Back to herself with only a bit of stiffness, she hurried over to the horse to make certain that she was fine. It was time to fuss over Susie. She made crooning sounds and ran her hands along the mare's neck, absolutely positive that she could read an apology in the deep, dark, soulful eyes of the horse. "It's all right, Susie," she murmured soothingly. "I know you didn't mean to do it." She leaned her head against the velvety smoothness of Susie's face and breathed in the smell.

And yet another thing to like about her, Jim thought to himself with a grin. The list grew for him everyday. She couldn't hold any type of a grudge and easily found forgiveness. He dismounted, led Starlight up to the two, and said, "I see everything is back to normal with you two."

"Susie's promised me another ride just as soon as she can manage it," she shot back with a small laugh. It was best to get right back on after fall. Trixie would see to it that she did just that. "She also said she's very sorry and that it won't ever happen again."

Jim patted the mare. "Glad to hear that, Susie. You've got to take better care of Trixie than that." Together they led the horses into their stalls. He aimed a glance at the clock and came to a quick decision. "I'll take care of the horses and the tack, Trix. I don't think you have enough time if you want to make it to your meeting."

She followed his gaze, her mouth dropping open. She was shocked at the time. It hadn't felt like they'd been out there for that long. She only had an hour to get ready, eat lunch, and get to the Country Club. "Gleeps! Our ride took much longer than I thought!"

"I don't think it was the ride that took so long, Trixie," he replied in a dry tone.

"Can't argue with that." Quickly calculating all she needed to do, Trixie decided she wouldn't be able to ride over with Honey and would have to beg, borrow or steal another form of transportation, hopefully her mother's. "Would you let Honey know that I'll meet her at the Country Club? The three of us were supposed to go over together but I don't want to keep them waiting on me. It wouldn't look good if all three of us are late, especially on our first technical day of work. I'll get there on my own."

"No problem." He had seen the Bob-White station wagon parked in the driveway. Honey had returned home during their ride, possibly with Di in tow. "I'll walk you back to your house."

"Oh, no! You don't have to do that, Jim. I can make it on my own," Trixie objected, not wanting to put him out anymore than she already had. "I'm fine now, Jim. Fit as a fiddle."

He considered her closely. She wasn't one to be babied but he felt a little uneasy letting her go off on her own, even if it was on a well-worn path with her home only a few short minutes away. But he didn't see anything physically wrong with her. "We'll make a deal, then, Miss Belden. You go home on your own but you call my cell phone the second you get into your house." He took his phone out of his pocket to show her he had it on him. "Deal?"

"Deal," she agreed quickly and with a disarming grin. A few years ago he would have insisted, cutting into her growing need for independence. She was grateful they were beyond that stage, where he valued her opinion as much as she did his. She paused at the entrance to the doorway, her hand on the doorframe, wanting to say more to him but only finding a few short words to give him for the way he had taken care of her. She would never forget it. It was one of those rare times when she wished she had Mart's gift for words. "Thanks for your help, Jim." Then she was gone.

He watched her go, noting her easy gait and the return of her energy and verve. She was back to normal. It made him feel good. And then he had to laugh. The small hole in the back of her jeans could now be termed a tear. It was much larger, courtesy of her fall, and there were two huge grass stains on the back of her jeans. He doubted if she'd ever be able to wear them again. Then he sighed. He wouldn't have minded seeing her in them. When she was out of sight, he turned to Susie. "I think I'll take care of you first, young lady." He slipped off the bridle first, looking closer to see if there were any marks on her face, searching for any possible reason for her uncontrollable outburst at the bluffs. Nothing. Hanging the bridle over the stall, he reached over and lifted off the saddle, leaving only the blanket left.

Then the shrill call of the bob-white rang out, his choice for his ring. There was only person who it could be. He gauged the time, noticed that she must have set quite a pace on the way home. "Hey, Trix," he said into it without looking at the number. He took off the blanket, intent on the conversation, and didn't hear the soft clink of metal on wood. He didn't see the small, sharp object roll to the side, on the outskirts of the fresh hay littering the stall, well out of his line of view, and camouflaged by the shadows.

"I made it home, safe and sound," she assured him and with a laugh to her voice. "No problems. Didn't fall, trip, faint, or do anything remotely dangerous on the way home."

"Good to know," he replied back, taking it as a good sign that she could joke. "We'll have to go riding again sometime." His mouth smiled. She sounded exactly the way his Trixie should. Happy, smiling, and beaming with vitality. He imagined that her blue eyes would be shining the way he liked best.

"Anytime...but without the fall, of course. Gotta go, Jim. Way behind schedule now! I'll see you later." She gave him a quick farewell and then hung up.

He laid the blanket on the side of the stall with the other items and then walked closer to Susie. Talking lowly to her, wanting to put her at ease, he checked her over closely, needing to see if there was any possible evidence of why she would have rejected Trixie so violently. All he could find was a small trace of blood on her back, almost too tiny for him to have spotted it. "Maybe it really was a bee sting," he muttered before heading back over to get the antiseptic to clean the infinitesimal wound. A sunbeam came through the window, landing on the sharp tack lying unnoticed on the floor.


	8. Chapter 7

Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Seven

She'd loved hearing his voice on the phone. She could listen to Jim for hours. It was with a pang of regret that she ended their short conversation and put the phone back in its cradle with a soft click. She brushed aside a few curls out of her eyes, realizing with a groan that she had managed to lose her favorite baseball cap somewhere on the bluffs after her fall. "Wonderful, just plain wonderful," she muttered sarcastically. A fall in front of Jim, a lost hat. "What a morning."

Then she glanced at the kitchen clock and breathed out a large sigh. Time was running out on her again and she wasn't even in school. Maybe time would never be her friend. She could almost hear the tick-tock-tick taunting her as it counted down her remaining minutes until one o'clock. Doubting it she would make it to the Country Club on time, she pivoted on her heel only to be brought to a sudden halt. Frustrated, she dropped her forehead against the doorframe.

"Greetings and salutations, dear sister," Mart greeted jokingly, rocking back on his heels, and watching her through the screen door. He opened it and stepped through, finished with self-assigned chores to help alleviate his growing boredom, and smirked at her. She half-turned to face him, her eyes slitted, and obviously not pleased to be stopped by him.

"Mart, I don't really have time for this," she began, not wanting to plead with him but left with no other choice. He could be quite contrary when the mood suited him. Judging from the flickers of merriment dancing in his bright blue eyes, the mood suited him just fine, and doomed her as his target. "I have to get to my meeting by one o'clock and I need to get ready. I really don't want to be late for my first official day of work."

He ignored her pleas with a flourish of his hand and sauntered over to her. "You should thank me," he told her, holding up her cell phone high in the air like it was a trophy. "Look what I found on the coffee table this morning, right after you left to go for your ride with Honey. I'll bet you didn't even realize you were missing it." Her guilty expression said that he was right. He continued, feeling mightily pleased with himself, "It's a good thing I pocketed it before Moms and Dad saw it. You know the penalty if you don't have it on you and they find out about it."

Unlimited grounding, stretching out as far as her eyes could see. Yeah, she knew. Luckily her parents hadn't caught her without it. She didn't ever want them to. She reached for it but he used his longer arms to hold it up higher, not giving her a fighting chance at all. There was nothing she could do to get it. She barely resisted the urge to kick him in the shins but decided that would be juvenile and petty. However, if he continued to tease her, she may have to follow through on it... "Mart," she gritted out, trying to hold back the irritation he stirred so easily within her when he wanted to. "I'd like my cell phone back now." With forced calm, she spoke to him like she was speaking to a tantrumming three-year old.

He responded like one. "You still didn't thank me," he complained, his blue eyes twinkling at her discomfort. He wagged a finger in her face, still holding the phone aloft. "Tsk. Tsk, Trixie."

"Hah, hah," she shot back, without an ounce of humor to her tone. Time was running out and her patience with it. "Thank you for guarding my phone." It came out closer to a hiss than a thank you, without an ounce of gratitude or appreciation.

"That didn't sound too sincere, my dear and cherished sister." Mart choked back his laughter. She was something when she was angry. Her eyes were starting to flash, a sure sign that her fury was building to a fever pitch, and her lips were drawn back into a fierce snarl. Then she whirled around, preparing to leave the room. Deciding he had come out the winner in the latest battle of wills between them, he cheerfully let her off the hook . "Fine, Trixie, I'll give in." As he was about to hand it back to her he noticed the large grass stains on her jeans, followed by the tear in the back, and his good humor vanished. Lines of worry settled on his forehead, no longer in the mood to tease or annoy. "What happened to you, Trix?"

Heaving another sigh, she forgot about her phone and turned back around. He looked different, very anxious about her, and her fury evaporated as quickly as he had conjured it up. "Had a little spill off Susie," she explained shortly, feeling her cheeks flare with that blasted red again, hoping she hadn't given Mart more fodder to tease her. She didn't have the inclination to be his target of the moment.

That didn't sound like his sister. She was too good a rider. He cocked his head, looked her over with an intensity that made her sightly nervous. She seemed fine but he needed to make certain of it. She was his baby sister, after all, and his 'twin' for the month. "You okay?"

She gave a curt nod, thankful that he wasn't going to tease her. Maybe he could tell how unsettled the fall had made her. She shouldn't have been surprised. There were many times when it seemed like he could read her mind or understand her deepest thoughts. He was always there to support her when she really needed it. "Yeah, just a little bruised, Mart. I landed on my back and had the breath knocked out of me." She remembered the Motrin and walked over to the cabinet where her mom kept all of the medicines, high out of the reach of Bobby. Popping open the container, she took two pills and washed them down with a glass of water that he handed her.

The grass stains and tear told another story. Leave it to her to not tell him how bad it really was, he thought wryly. "It must have been some fall. What happened?" Mart asked the question with ease but his expression was serious. He studied her closely while waiting for her answer.

Giving a small shrug, she didn't elaborate. She couldn't. She still didn't have the foggiest notion why Susie had thrown her. It hadn't felt right and bothered her more than she cared to admit. "I don't know. I don't. I was trying to mount her. When I sat down in the saddle, she went wild. Jim saw the whole thing. He said that I didn't do anything wrong. Something must have spooked Susie. He thinks maybe she was stung by a bee."

First a fall and then Jim? "Wait...Jim?" Mart leaned against the counter, crossed his arms over his chest, and gave his head a comical shake. Sometimes it was hard to keep up with her. "Did I hear you right? Did you say Jim? I thought you were riding with Honey this morning. More importantly, I didn't realize he was home. I thought he was still at school with Brian."

She shared the story Jim had told her. "Apparently he decided to come back yesterday. He turned in his last project, packed up, and drove home yesterday. He said that he stopped by yesterday afternoon but we were all at Bobby's game. He also said that Brian has two big finals coming up and could use the solitude to study for them. He's going to drive back in to pick Brian up on Tuesday." Trixie set the small glass down and tried not to fidget, mentally preparing herself for Mart to tease her about Jim.

Mart understood more about her feelings for Jim than he had ever let on. While he didn't have an issue picking on her over something trivial like a forgotten cell phone, he wouldn't harass her about Jim, not when he knew how wonderful and painful it was to have special feelings for someone within their group, as well as not knowing if those feelings were reciprocated. "Well, it's a good thing Jim was there to help you," he remarked smoothly after a long moment of silence.

Her body relaxed. She hadn't even realized she had held herself so stiffly. Trixie didn't say anything, although she completely agreed. Now that the pain was nearly gone, she could begin to appreciate having Jim near her and the way he had carefully and completely taken care of her. He had made her feel special and cherished. But now was not the time to focus on the warm thoughts that made her feel a little fuzzy inside. She shook them away. Instead, she pointed to her cell phone. "I'm glad I forgot it. It would have probably broken in the fall." She generally carried it in her back pocket when she went riding. The poor thing would have been toast. It never would have survived the fall. "And I'm even gladder that Moms and Dad didn't find it before you did."

"Well, your secret is safe with me," Mart assured her, palms up in promise. "I won't tell them. Don't forget it again, though. I'd hate to see you stranded at home for weeks on end. Moms and Dad would do it, too. I know how much faith they put in this little device. They want to be able to get in contact with you whenever possible."

So far she had avoided the dreaded punishment. Her parents had made it clear that while they trusted her judgement and wanted to give her the freedom to live her life, they needed to be able to contact her. In other, plainer words, they wanted to make sure she was safe and had not unwittingly placed herself in a life-and-death situation. She knew she had no one to blame but herself for her past impulsive actions. "Right. Well, I have to get a quick shower, get dressed, and wolf down lunch, all in the next half hour, and then pray that I don't get behind a slow Sunday driver on Glen Road while I drive to the Country Club." Her feet fairly flew to the doorway where she paused and said with sincerity, "Thanks for watching out for me, Mart. You always do."

"Trixie, it's my pleasure." After she left, Mart picked up her phone and gave a grin that could only be called devilish, ready to make good use of the next few minutes. It was time to give her a new ring. _Barbie Girl_ would be a tough one to top. He quickly punched in a few of buttons and looked at a few possible choices of ring tones. Not liking the ones offered, he tried a different site until the perfect one was staring back at him. Eyes tinted with a mixture of humor and pure brotherly wickedness, he deleted out his previous choice and with a push of a button her new tone was _I'm Too Sexy_ by Right Said Fred. He only hoped that Jim was around to hear it the first time it came on. Mart imagined Jim would enjoy it immensely while his poor sister would suffer the depths of an embarrassment she had yet to know. He could visualize it perfectly and promised himself he would definitely call her the next time she got together with Jim.

Chuckling to himself, he placed the cell phone back on the table where Trixie would see it when she came back in. Wanting to be helpful now instead of diabolical, he moved to the refrigerator, rummaged inside the appliance overloaded with food and drinks, the way his mother liked to stock it, and pulled out the lunch meat. He made her a generous sandwich, with slices of ham, turkey and American cheese. He added a slice of lettuce and tomato but skipped her favorite mustard. With her luck she'd end up staining her shirt. That would throw her dwindling time schedule off even further. "That'll help speed things up for you, Trix."

He put the plate on the table and heard his newest choice singing out from her phone. It wasn't unusual for a Belden to answer another's phone. Privacy was hard to come by in their household, always had been, always would be. "Beatrix Belden's phone," he answered in his best telephone operator's voice, expecting to hear Di or Honey giggling on the other end.

A sound like a surprised gasp and then the line went dead. "Hello? Hello?" Mart repeated, then shrugged. Snapping the phone shut, he put it next to her plate. "Wrong number, I guess." Then he made himself a sandwich, much bigger and more stacked than Trixie's, whistling the entire way, the phone call already out of his mind.

Trixie blew back into the kitchen, her curls slightly damp from her exceedingly quick shower, and as ready for the afternoon as she could be. The aches were nearly a thing of the past, thanks to the magic of Motrin, and she hadn't noticed any bruises on her body. As much as she hated to do it, she had dressed up a bit, wearing her khaki pants, a burgundy shirt, and even brown loafers. She figured her supervisor wouldn't like it if she showed up in her ripped blue jeans or faded blue shirt. Her eyes immediately fell on the sandwich on the table, as well as the glass of iced tea he had finished pouring for her. "You know, Mart, most of the time you can be the biggest pain in the neck but there are some times when you certainly redeem yourself." She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, much the same way she greeted her father in the mornings. "Thanks, Mart. I really appreciate it."

He ignored her baited comment and focused in on her sincerity. "Anytime, Beatrix." She was in a much better mood and didn't take umbrage at the use of her hated given name. He pointed to the keys on the kitchen counter. "Moms, Dad and Bobby went into town to do some shopping. It turns out Bobby blew out his cleats last night so they are desperately searching for new ones before his next game. Moms left you the keys to the van, in case you should need them."

"I do." She didn't take the time to sit. Instead, she picked up the sandwich and took a generous bite. "I told Jim to tell Honey and Di that I would meet them at the Club. I didn't want to make them late, too," she mentioned between swallows.

"Tardiness, thy name is Trixie," he murmured and gave a quick burst of laughter at her chagrined face. "You've got about ten minutes to get there, Trix. You might want to eat the sandwich on the way," he put in helpfully.

"Gleeps, I'd better get going." She folded the rest of her sandwich in a napkin, stuffed her phone in her back pocket and grabbed the keys. "Tell Moms and Dad I'll be back in a few hours. Have a good afternoon, Mart." She breezed out the door like the whirlwind that she was.

He watched her, heard the car start up, and shook his head at her boundless energy. "Some things never change." He doubted if she could ever be completely cautious. There was such a strong thread of impulsivity in her that he realized would never be totally tamed, no matter her age or her experience. Then he finished the rest of his sandwich and rather wished she hadn't left. It was a lot quieter without her in the house.


	9. Chapter 8

Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Eight

Twelve-fifty five. She couldn't believe her luck. Maybe she was finally starting to have some. She pulled the minivan into an open spot right next to the Bob-White station wagon, cut the engine and was out of the vehicle as quick as her legs would let her. She closed the door, making sure it was locked, and hurried along the pretty cobble-stoned sidewalk to the front of the enchanting building.

The Sleepyside Country Club looked like a large cottage, with wide front steps leading up to an impressive front porch that wrapped around the entire building. Large pots of hanging flowers with multi-colored blossoms swirled gently in the wind, the breeze drifting the sweet smell towards the entering guests. Countless comfortable chairs as well as a few wooden porch swings and gliders invited people to come, rest, and enjoy the serene view of the flourishing gardens and the well-tended grounds. The pool was located in the back, as where the tennis courts and the golf course. Trixie didn't take the time to enjoy the view. She entered the front door as decorously as she could and was pounced on immediately by her two best friends.

"You finally made it," Honey whispered excitedly. "And with only a few minutes to spare. Follow us. We'll show you where to go." She pinned a name badge on Trixie's shirt, grabbed her arm and pulled her down the long corridor, past the receptionist area and comfortable sitting area, and into a room off to the side.

Di rounded out their threesome. "We were worried about you. We were both afraid you weren't going to make it," she added as she fluffed her dark hair. She looked her best in lavendar pants and a light white sweater set. Her hair was pulled back with a matching lavender band that stood out against the black of her hair. "You arrived in the nick of time, Trix."

"Isn't that the story of my life?," Trixie whispered back. She sat down gratefully in-between her friends and caught the unspoken questions they were wanting to ask her. "I'll tell you all about it later, when we get a break."

Honey looked over Trixie's head, met Di's eyes. They shared a secret smile. Both knew Trixie had gone riding with Jim and expected that to be the reason behind her tardiness. He hadn't told them about anything about the ride but it had been a long one, nearly three hours. Honey knew she would be able to get something more substantial out of Trixie, other than the fact that they had a 'good time.'

Just then their supervisor, Angela Lane, arrived. Dressed in the Club's colors, she appeared to be a few years younger than her actual age and very enthusiastic. Her face was alight with anticipation. She clearly enjoyed her job and liked working with the younger crew. She took her spot at the front of the room, behind a long table efficiently loaded with neat stacks of paper work. She smiled at the eager and young faces in front of her, the teenagers who would make up the summer staff. "Welcome, everyone," she sang out with a cheerful smile.

Trixie instinctively liked her. Honey had told her that she was very nice but she had wanted to see that for herself. She actually found herslelf paying attention to the woman as she explained the policies of the Country Club, from the appropriate dress code for staff to the hours they could legally work in a week and the upcoming schedule. The lifeguards would start on Memorial Day, the official opening of the pool. The pool would be open on weekends until after graduation. All graduates had graduation weekend off, with the younger lifeguards and staff covering for them. Trixie leaned forward with anticipation. It was much more interesting than school.

The time flew by fast. Angela came to a breathless stop, gave her employees a good, hard look and announced, "I think we can have a ten minute break. Before we do that, I am looking for volunteers to run the reception desk this upcoming week and over the weekend. Our regular employee is going on vacation and we need to find coverage. Think about it. If you are interested, let me know after the break." She motioned to the snacks and drinks set up in the back of the room and then left, having a few things to take care of herself in her office.

"Do you want to volunteer to work at the reception desk?" Honey inquired curiously. The girls stayed in their seats as the rest of the new employees took advantage of the snack break. She thought it would be good experience, plus a way to earn a little extra money before their shifts officially started.

"I don't know about both of you but I could use a break from homework and school. I doubt if my parents would mind if I offered to work one weekday night and maybe even one of the weekend shifts," Trixie guessed, knowing that her parents would be supportive of her decision. She also didn't have any huge homework assignments looming before her, which would help, too.

"I'm in," Di announced gladly. "If we each took a night, then they would only have to find two more people to fill in the rest of the week, plus we'll get a chance to do something more interesting besides school."

Smiling at each other, the three girls came to a unanimous decision. "We'll do it, then." Honey stood up and led the way to the snack table. "I can't help out on the weekend, though. That will be left to you and Di or anyone else who volunteers. My parents are coming back to town and I want to spend some time with them."

Trixie understood. Although Honey rarely talked about it, she missed her parents dreadfully when they were gone, especially when it was a prolonged trip. They had been away for two weeks already. This upcoming week would make it three. "No problem, Honey," she quickly assured her.

The girls made it back to their seats when Angela returned to the room. Each lifted their hands to volunteer when Angela asked for volunteers to work the reception desk. Only two others in the room offered, too. Honey was given Monday, Trixie took Tuesday, and Di was assigned Wednesday. Trixie and Di were also given the three-nine PM shift on Saturday evening, which tended to be a pretty busy one, while another volunteer was given the Sunday shift.

Angela shared more information with her new employees, letting them know that they could pick up their uniforms when they dropped off their completed paperwork. "There is a lot of paperwork, for you and your parents or guardians to complete. We need it back by this Friday at the latest so we can start the process of enrolling you in our payroll. Please, come and pick up your packets and your first month's schedule."

After the new employees picked up their packs of paperwork to be filled out and returned at a later date and their schedules, Angela dismissed them with one of her cheerful smiles. "I'll see you all later this week. Remember, everything needs to be turned in by Friday," she reminded the group.

They were one of the last to leave the room, their packets in their hands. Di leafed through hers and stifled a small moan. "She's right. There is an awful lot to fill out. It looks like we'll be signing our lives away!" she exclaimed dramatically.

"More work," Trixie shuddered. "It never seems to end, does it?"

"Wait until college," Honey put in. "From what Jim tells me, the workload is even harder. Plus you don't have teachers hounding you. The professors give the assignments and expect you to figure everything out for yourselves."

"Speaking of Jim..." Di teased as she held open the door and motioned for them to go first.

"That's right!" Honey exclaimed playfully, slapping herself on the forehead for good measure. "I believe you promised to tell us about your ride with my handsome brother." She headed over to a large, comfortable sofa in a corner of the lobby and plopped down on it, placing her packet on the nearby small table, amused by the red flush working its way across Trixie's face.

It seemed to Trixie that all she seemed to be doing lately was blushing. She kept her head lowered, attempted to will it away, and took an exceedingly large amount of time situating her packet on the table.

Di couldn't keep the telltale grin off her lovely face as she sat next to Honey. "We thought it would be a wonderful surprise for you."

"You did plan it!" Trixie snapped her head up, glaring accusingly at her friends, who gave her unrepetant looks. "I thought so."

"That's what friends are for!" Di laughed and winked at Honey. "We take care of each other."

"You can thank us later," Honey assured her, although she knew Trixie would do no such thing. "The idea came to me when I saw Jim this morning at breakfast. I knew the little white lie would be worth it. Right now, though, we want some details. All Jim told us when he got in the house was that you were running late and would meet us here. What could have made you so late? Di and I were afraid you wouldn't make it here at all."

Trixie eyed her friends, deciding that they deserved a dose of their own medicine. "Well, I spent a good bit of the time on the ground and on my back," she explained, keeping her face expressionless and her lips from twitching. Both Di's and Honey's eyes widened to twice their normal sizes, their trains of thoughts on the same, and quite wrong, track. Trixie burst into laughter at the surprised looks coming her way. "I was thrown off of Susie," she finally added, derailing their thoughts.

Instantly concerned, Honey moved in, staring at Trixie closely. "Are you okay, Trix?" she asked.

Trixie gave a curt nod. "Yeah. It hurt for awhile but I feel much better now. I think the Motrin worked wonders. That's why our ride took so long. I probably spent the same amount of time on the ground as I did in the saddle." She wasn't going to tell them about the extra TLC from Jim. That would only give them more ammuntion to use against her at some later point.

"That's a shame." Di's lovely face was pulled back into a frown. She felt awful for her friend. "I'm sorry that happened to you, Trix."

"Me, too." She leaned back against the overstuffed cushions. Her aches were nearly a thing of the past but the memory of it was still sharp. "Jim told me that I didn't do anything to cause Susie to go so wild. He thinks maybe she was stung by a bee. And, if it wasn't bad enough falling off of Susie in front of Jim, I even managed to lose my favorite hat in the bargain."

"The one Brian got your for Christmas?" Honey knew the hat well. Jim had given her the same one, too, a baseball cap with the NYU logo emblazoned proudly across the front.

"I lost my hat and made a fool of myself in front of Jim. It couldn't have been more perfect." She shook her head at what she perceived to be her own clumsiness, frustrated with the lack of grace she had exhibited. Nothing new but it still bothered her.

"I doubt he thought that," Honey was quick to shoot back and defend her brother and best friend in the same breath. "You are no fool, Trixie Belden. If I know my brother, and I do, very well, I might add, he would never think that about you. He would be more concerned that it happened and that you weren't seriously hurt."

"I agree with Honey." Di didn't add that she thought Jim would walk on water for Trixie if she asked him to. Why the two of them weren't together as a couple was beyond her. It was obvious to Di that both had very strong feelings for the other but neither seemed to want to act on them. Very puzzling. But, then again, she thought with a small, self-deprecating sigh, maybe the others felt that way about her and Mart. She sent a covert glance towards Honey. She wasn't sure of the state of Honey's feelings for Brian or his for her. The two were very successful at hiding whatever they could potentially be feeling for the other.

"Well, it's over now, and hopefully forgotten." She didn't know that Jim would remember the fall for many nights to come. "I was even able to look Susie over before I went home. She had made it back to the stables, thank goodness! I can't begin to imagine what Regan would say if something bad had happened to her. She looks great, with no ill effects at all."

"At least Jim was there to help you up," Honey remarked, her honey eyes twinkling. She smothered a laugh as the blush heated up Trixie's face again but then dropped the subject. She enjoyed teasing Trixie but, unlike Mart, she knew when it was time to stop. Standing up, she declared, "It's time to head home, ladies. I know that I have an English paper waiting for me, as well as a mound of paperwork to fill out." She reached down and grabbed her packet.

"And I have some more Spanish," Di chimed in and copying Honey.

"If you can believe, I actually don't have any homework this weekend. I guess my teachers are making up for the endless mound that they assigned me this last week. I do have a few chores left to do at home, however." A prickle of uneasiness came over her again as she stood up from the sofa. It was that same eerie feeling she had felt in the corridor near the gym, as well as at the baseball game. She was really beginning to despise the feeling. Frowning, she sent a quick, searching glance around in all directions, but, like before, couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. All she saw were a few guests and a handful of employees, as well as a few stragglers like the three of them hanging out in the lobby. Nothing unusual, certainly nothing to be concerned about, and making her no closer to discovering the source of her disquiet. Maybe she really did have an overactive imagination, like Mart and a few others kept telling her.

She followed at a slower pace behind Di and Honey, who were carefree and giggling, excited about the promising start to their summer, and completely oblivious to Trixie's sudden preoccupation. Arriving at the front door, Trixie gave one last look. Still nothing. Then the three girls walked down the porch steps as a unified unit and over the cobbled sidewalk to the parking lot. "Don't forget that we're meeting tomorrow at the boathouse!" Honey reminded Trixie when they reached the Bob-White station wagon.

Putting her hand on the hood of her mom's van, Trixie faced her friends. The feeling had dissipated, although she was still a little jittery but she hid it behind what she hoped could pass for a relaxed smile. "Around twelve-thirty, right?" she checked with them. "That's the time I told Mart."

"Exactly. That should give Dan plenty of time to make it back and get down to the boathouse for our picnic. They're leaving Saratoga at the crack of dawn, Regan's favorite time to travel," Honey shared.

"Did your father end up buying the new horse?" Di questioned as she went to the driver's side door of the station wagon, the keys dangling from her fingers.

Honey shook her head no. "He was all set to when the owner suddenly pulled out from the deal. I'm not sure why the deal fell through but I'll bet my father was furious with the whole thing. He doesn't like having people go against their given word."

"Is there anything we're forgetting for tomorrow? We told the boys we'd take care of everything. All they have to do is show up." Mart had been jubilant on that score, although Trixie knew he would help her carry the supplies to the boathouse without much of a qualm. Maybe a grouch here or there but he'd do it.

Di shook her head. "I think we have everything covered." She gave a small sigh of happiness and clapped her hands together. She was always the most content when her friends were all together. It promised to be a wonderful day. She only wished Brian was able to make it, too. "It's going to be great to have most of the Bob-Whites back together! Six out of seven. Those are pretty good odds."

"We'll only be one short. That's not too bad, seeing as how we've been the ones holding down the fort since their winter breaks." Honey opened the passenger side door. "That's not too bad. And then, on Tuesday, we'll finally all be back together." She covered her own sigh at the thought of Brian returning. He had always been cordial and kind to her but had never attempted anything beyond friendship. Trixie and Di weren't the only ones mooning over a member of their club, although Honey was much better at hiding it.

"'Bye, Trix! We'll see you tomorrow!" Di climbed into the driver's side and started the car.

Trixie smiled at the two daughters of millionaires, both families who were members of the Country Club, and who were both happy and content to be sharing and driving around in their slightly beat-up club station wagon. She had to chuckle. Neither Di or Honey had an arrogant bone in their bodies. Trixie rounded the minivan and walked over to the driver's side door. She waved her hand to her friends as they backed up and pulled out of the parking lot. Then she reached for the door handle and stopped, frozen in place.

Crouching down, she ran her hands over the new addition to the door that hadn't been there three hours earlier. It couldn't be missed. It was a long scratch, running a few inches under the window, and went nearly the entire length of the door. It didn't seem to be too deep so there was a chance that it could be buffed out. Luckily, none of the dark blue paint had chipped off. She looked at the empty parking slots next to her, her cheerful mood fading, and scowled. There was no way that a car door could have accidentally bumped it and made that type of a scratch. It looked...intentional. But that didn't make any sense. "How on earth..."she mumbled to herself. What a day. First a terrible fall off of her beloved Susie, with Jim as a witness, no less, then losing her hat, and now an ugly scratch on her mom's car door, with absolutely no idea on how it had come to be there. She hoped her mom wouldn't be too mad at her when she saw it. She wasn't nearly as happy when she climbed into the car and drove the short distance home.


	10. Chapter 9

Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Nine

The day had started out bright and sunny but the thickening clouds were starting to slowly claim the sky, chasing away the light from the sun. There was considerably less blue and more of an ominous looking gray. The air was cool, much cooler than it had been all week. Trixie pulled her dark blue sweatshirt over her head and glanced up at the sky before picking up the wicker picnic basket sitting on the porch. "Do you think we should move the picnic inside?" she questioned Mart. "Nobody would mind. We're all happy to be together."

He carried the cooler down the porch and set it down on the ground with an exaggerated groan. Rubbing his back as if he had been carrying the entire weight of the world on his back instead of cans of soda and bottles of water inside, he answered, "The weather forecast isn't calling for rain until later this evening. We should be able to get the picnic in. If the forecast is wrong and it starts to rain this afternoon, we can always take cover in the boathouse or the clubhouse."

"I suppose." Giving the sky one last glance, she started across the lawn, Mart at her heels. She didn't want it to rain. It would be more fun to be outside. "Well, it's just about time. Let's get going. I'd rather be early..."

"For once," he finished for her. Together they started up the well-worn path to the lake. Mart dragged the cooler behind them. "I like the fact that they make coolers with wheels now," he said to Trixie. "Makes my job much easier than in years past."

She laughed with him as they made quick work of their walk. It didn't take them long to reach the lake. Trixie stopped at the end of the path, her expressive face showing her surprise. The picnic table stood off to the side, empty, with no one else in sight. "We're the first ones here," she noted aloud. It wasn't something she was used to do.

Mart picked up on it with the radar that brothers seemed to have for their sisters. "Cherish the feeling, Trixie," he ordered her with that mocking glint to his eyes that he seemed to reserved just for her and that she knew so well. "It doesn't happen to you that often."

Rolling her eyes, she took his teasing with a seasoned smirk. "I'm generally late or cutting it so close I may as well be late." She knew her weaknesses. Walking over to the picnic table she dropped the picnic basket on it gratefully. Their contribution to the picnic had been drinks, paper products, and plastic silverware, as well as a few dishes Moms simply had to make for them. "Do you think we should get things set up yet?"

"Nah. Let's wait until we see the whole army of food from the other members of our club. You mentioned that Honey volunteered to bring the main dishes and Di the dessert. Then we'll know if we have enough room or not." Mart searched through the cooler until he found what he wanted. He also tossed a can of strawberry pop to Trixie with a grimace on his face. "I've never been able to figure out what you see in that stuff," he complained as he popped open his root beer.

Trixie took out her cell phone and made a show of letting him see it. "See, Mart, I remembered it today," she informed Mart, just in case he didn't realize it. Then she sat it on the picnic table next to her with a flourish and climbed up on the table, her eyes searching once again towards the Manor House, almost as if she was willing their friends to arrive.

"Good for you, Trixie."Mart had to smother his grin. So far she hadn't received a call on it and had no idea about her new ring tone. Then he heard the sounds of the other members of their party coming from the direction of the Manor House. His chuckle had to be bitten back. If fate worked out well for him, Jim would be around the first time she heard it. He could only imagine the double mortification she would experience. He studied his unsuspecting sister and hoped for the best.

The muffled voices got louder. Both Beldens turned as one as three more Bob-Whites appeared around the corner, all dressed warmly against the surprisingly cool spring day. "You beat us!" Honey sang out gaily, unwilling to let the weather dampen her spirits, with a large brown paper bag in her hands. Snack bags peeped out of the top.

Mart gave Trixie a small push as the threesome came closer. "I'll admit it was tough keeping this one on task but I finally did manage to do it. Trixie was early for once, with my masterful assistance, of course."

Di came to a shy stop. Unsure on how to greet him, she went with a neutral but friendly course and waved to him. She brushed a loose strand of her out of her face and tried not to be too obvious in the admiring glance she gave Mart. He looked wonderful, as usual. His blonde hair was still cut short, in an effort to keep the curls that plagued his sister from growing on his own head. His eyes were still the same brilliant shade of blue that haunted her dreams. And he still had that same cute grin on his face. She had spent a long time on her outfit, wanting to go for something that was extra nice but didn't look like she'd spent too much time on it. She had finally decided on a pair of dark jeans with the new multi-colored sweater she had bought on a recent shopping trip. It buttoned up and had a trendy hood."I brought the dessert." She gave him her best smile, knowing that would get him to come to her side like nothing else would.

She was right. Mart was next to her in an instant and carefully took the container out of her hands, lest she should drop it in the ten steps she had left to the picnic table. "I'll take care of this, Di." He placed it in the center of the picnic table with a near reverence that had the others grinning or covering up their laughs.

Jim wheeled his cooler over to the table. It was filled with different types of lunch meat and cold salads, exactly what Honey had promised for the picnic. "Our contribution," he mentioned idly to the group.

Trixie jumped off of the picnic table, ready to start setting the picnic up. She headed straight for Jim and his cooler, assisting him in taking the food out. Together they placed the different containers on the table, working efficiently while the others talked around them.

"Feeling better?" he murmured so softly she was the only one to hear it, referencing her fall from the day before.

"No problems." She met his serious green eyes and nodded. She didn't want her fall to be brought up again and was grateful he already understood it. That was one of the things she liked the most about Jim. There were times when he understood her feelings better than she did and he always did his best to make sure she wasn't embarrassed or uncomfortable when in a larger group, a trait she sometimes brought on herself, and definitely one Mart did not mind creating at any given moment.

They could hear a cheerful whistle that had been missing for much too long. "Dan!" Di yelled as she saw the missing Bob-White turn the corner in the path, a bag of potato chips in his hand.

He waved to the group and quickened his pace. He couldn't believe how much he had missed everyone. In the few years he had lived in Sleepyside the group had become more to him than just friends. They had become his family. There were still times when he couldn't believe how truly lucky he had been to get out of the horrible situation he had found himself in at such a young age. The people staring back at him were his salvation, of that he had no doubt. There wasn't anything he would do for them. "Hey, guys!" he greeted them, a wide smile on his handsome face.

Trixie dropped the plates she had opened and raced towards him, the first to meet him. She gave him a fierce hug and said, her eyes glinting with happiness, "Don't stay away so long next time, Mangan."

A spurt of unreasonable jealousy spurted through Jim at the sight of Trixie in Dan's arms, no matter how brief or innocent the contact. He felt an immense relief when his friend let her go and moved on to the next girl in line to give her the same hug. It was stupid, it was irrational, but there it was. Jim did not like seeing Trixie with any man, no matter who it was, and definitely not in their arms. He mentally calculated the days to her graduation, that magical date that would set him free from his promise to his parents, and finally allow him to make her his, if she felt the same way.

After all the joyous welcomes and greetings had been exchanged, Mart placed himself as unobtrusively as he could next to Di and made the grand announcement, "Fellow Bob-Whites, I say it's time we start eating. Trix and I were debating on the way up whether we should set the picnic up inside or keep it outside before the rain comes. Since there is no precipitation as of yet, I say we need to get this picnic going while the weather still favors us." Plus there was the added fact that he was starving.

His pronouncement was met with a few groans at his large vocabulary. Di glanced up at the sky. It was certainly more threatening looking than it had been in the morning and the breeze was much cooler. It felt more like early April than early May. "I second that motion, Mart. Let's eat!"

Plates were filled, drinks were handed out, and the young men and women found seats at the old wooden picnic table. Jim managed to claim an end spot next to Trixie while Mart wasn't as lucky with Di. Di had sat down on the other side of Trix, much to his chagrin, so he was forced to sit across from her. At least he could look at her all through the meal, he decided with a realistic shrug. He would find pleasure in that. Honey and Dan rounded out the rest of the seats on Mart's side.

The conversation ebbed and flowed comfortably across the table. "When is Brian coming home?" Dan asked as he filled up his plate with a generous serving of homemade potato salad, one of his absolute favors.

"I'm heading back in on Tuesday to pick him up," Jim explained easily as he accidently brushed against Trixie in his reach for a napkin. He smiled his apology at her, although he wasn't feeling all that apologetic about it. "He has two more finals left."

"And we're starting our first job tomorrow morning," Mart put in with exaggerated cheer, causing Dan to groan loudly. "Weather permitting, of course."

Dan looked up at the sky in supplication, almost as if he could conjure up a storm. "You had to set up a job my second day back in town," he grumbled towards Mart. He leaned back and reached behind Honey to give him a playful shove.

"Hey, I've been a little bored," Mart insisted in his behalf, his hands held out in front of him. "Keep in mind I've been home a few days longer than you. I never realized how hard it would be going from the hectic pace of college to the much slower pace of Sleepyside."

"I feel the same way," Jim agreed as he looked at the girls around them. They would discover the adjustment from college to home was a little more unusual and difficult than anyone could prepare them for. He was looking forward to the start of his summer job, too.

"It's also been very quiet around here, more than I ever remember it being," Mart continued with feigned innocence. His blue eyes met his sister's. "I seem to remember a time when mysteries seemed to fall out of the sky on our little group, thanks to our female co-president and her co-conspirator. Alas, those time seem to be long ago and far away."

She rolled her eyes, refusing to rise to the bait. "What can I say?" Trixie replied smoothly and glanced at her friend. "Mysteries are much harder to come by now, aren't they, Honey?"

Honey had been quiet through most of the meal, her thoughts lost on the one missing member of their group, so she was brought back into the conversation with a jolt. It took her a minute to reply. "Of course, Trixie. I almost can't remember our last one. We've been piled down with homework for just about ever. With the worry over college applications, the search for a summer job, and finishing out our senior year, there simply hasn't been time for a mystery."

Dan snapped his fingers in pretend dismay and let his broad shoulders sag. "Here I was, hoping to get an update on the latest Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency activities, and it looks like I'm going to be disappointed. Nothing doing, ladies?" He enjoyed a good mystery and had always thrown himself into them, whenever he possibly could.

Trixie shook her head. "Not a single one on the horizon," she answered curtly, although she felt a shiver travel up her spine at her answer, making her chillier than the cool breeze that had blown through. She didn't know why, couldn't explain it, but decided not to dwell on it.

Always tuned in to her and her moods, Jim narrowed his eyes. He saw the troubled expression on her face before it swiftly disappeared. He wondered what had caused it and reached under the table to catch her colder hand in his. Nothing unusual in that, he reasoned to himself as he squeezed hers, hoping to offer her a reassurance against whatever thoughts had just plagued her. Her small smile of gratitude was his reward.

Her phone rang, causing everyone to stop talking or eating, and to stare at it in shocked amusement. Mart couldn't help it. He almost chocked but he couldn't stop it. He started laughing so hard he had to grab his sides. Trixie first turned a brilliant shade of bright red and then she glared at him. Not answering the phone, which continued serenading them to the growing amusement of all, she stood up, hands on her hips, and looked accusingly at him, her eyes shooting sparks of indignation his way. "Mart Belden!" she exclaimed.

Di had to wipe away the tears of mirth that were rolling down her cheeks. "Oh, Trixie," burst past her lips as she continued to giggle. Really, Mart could be so funny. "This is even better than _Barbie Girl_."

It was difficult but Dan did his best not to laugh. Poor Trixie looked too astonished. "You've been at it again, old man?" He mentioned casually to Mart although his eyes were dancing with merriment. Mart had tried that trick on him during the first month of their freshman year together but had never tried it again. Dan taught him very quickly that revenge really was 'sweet, saccharin sweet.' He studied Trixie, who looked caught somewhere between embarrassment, fury and shock, and thought maybe he would teach her the same trick.

"That's mean, Mart," Honey added through the tinkling of the sound of her musical laughter. She took a deep breath as more giggles poured out of her despite her resolve to stop laughing, for Trixie's sake. "But it's certainly funny."

Since Trixie wasn't making any move in an attempt to answer her phone, was only staring at Mart like she wanted to cause him severe bodily harm and soon, Jim controlled his laughter enough to reach for her phone and answer it, effectively cutting off the catchy chorus of _I'm Too Sexy_. He didn't recognize the number. "Hello?"

Nothing. Then an exceedingly low, mumbled, "Sorry. Wrong number," before the person on the other end hung up.

Jim shrugged his shoulder and closed the phone. When Trixie glanced back at him, ire still snapping in her blue eyes, he informed her quietly, "Wrong number."

It seemed like she'd been getting a lot of those lately. It was starting to bother her. Maybe that was the reason behind her earlier shiver. Not wanting to share that with the group, Trixie hid the distressing thought and sent one more glare towards her brother, who was grinning at her unrepentantly. "I'd appreciate it if you would keep your hands off my phone, Mart," she growled at him, her hands fisted at her side.

Mart leaned back as much as the picnic table would allow and put his hands behind his head. "My advice to you is to keep your phone with you, then, oh, dear sister of mine. Then I may be able to resist the urge to play with it."

She didn't answer, sent one last long glower in his direction, and pocketed her phone. Then she started cleaning up her spot, her moves slow and deliberate, as if it was the most important thing in the world. She didn't want to ruin the picnic with a flash of her temper, which she could feel brewing as surely as the rainstorm that would be coming sometime in the next few hours. Knowing it was about to get the better of her, she effectively took herself out of the equation by leaving the table and bringing her trash to the plastic bag tied to the railing.

"That was an inspired choice, by the way," Dan whispered in an aside to Mart. Just because he felt bad for Trixie didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the prank.

"Dan!" Di admonished as loudly as she dared. "Don't encourage him." But her violet eyes clouded over. She would love for Mart to do something like that to hers. Her hands slipped into her pocket and unobtrusively placed her phone on the table, only a few short inches from Mart's place. Maybe if she encouraged him... Honey caught the motion with a knowing glimmer to her hazel eyes but didn't say anything.

"I've had years of practice annoying my little sister," Mart replied to Dan, taking a little bow before he bit into a thick sandwich. It had been even sweeter to hear the phone go off and see her reaction in front of Jim. He knew that was part of the reason why her blush had been so furious, as well as why her temper had flared even more brilliantly. But she had managed to contain it, a vast improvement over a few of her displays of temper when she was younger. He glanced towards her in approval. She had matured a lot in the past few years. There would have been a time when she would have blasted him in front of everyone else, which would have made the rest of the picnic uncomfortable for everyone.

Jim cleared up his spot, all the while keeping one sharp eye on Trixie. She had finished throwing out her garbage, using the mundane chore to cool down, and then had walked along the dock to the edge of the water, where she was now staring out over it, her back to them. He couldn't tell how she was feeling but he was proud of her, too. It took a lot of control for her not to have blown up at her brother for his joke, no matter how amusing the five of them had found it to be. As nonchalantly as he could, hoping he wasn't being too obvious but then deciding he didn't particularly care, he stood up and began collecting his things.

Honey watched him go, with more amusement on her face. She pitched her voice lower so that only the ones remaining at the table could hear her. "If I was a betting girl I'd say he's going to throw out his things and then make a beeline for Trixie."

Dan cocked an eyebrow at her and answered just as quietly back. "That would leave the rest of us with a fool's bet, Miss Wheeler. I can't imagine any of us here thinking that he's going to do anything else but that." He looked at Mart and Di, who both nodded their agreement. "None of us are going to take you up on that one."

Di headed over to the cooler to get another drink. An idea came to her. Trixie would help her out if situations were reversed. She handed the new can of root beer to Mart, opened her bottle of water, and whispered, "Well, let's make it a little easier on them. How about we take a little walk while Jim smooths the ruffled feathers of our other co-president?"

Honey liked the idea and suggested after a moment of silent deliberation, "We could say we wanted to check on the clubhouse when they ask, then maybe it won't seem too obvious why we're leaving them alone."

Dan's lips twitched. They were both too smart to be fooled by something so silly but he was game to play along with it. Holding his soda can in his hands, he left his seat and joined the girls. "Sounds like a good plan," he agreed untruthfully.

Mart looked at the rest of the food piled up on his plate. He hadn't made it through the entire way yet, although the rest of his friends had finished. "Oh, man, now?" he bemoaned at the three expectant faces.

"Yes, now," Dan answered sarcastically. He grabbed Mart's arm and helped him out from under the table. Then he used his best police officer's voice, "You did the crime, now you can do the time, Mr. Belden."

"Very funny, Officer Mangan." Mart released a groan and one last look of longing at his plate before reluctantly heading out with them.

"We can clean up the rest and have dessert when we get back," Di said cajolingly to Mart in an attempt to appease him. She never liked seeing him upset, even if he was responsible. "If it helps any, I believe our cook made us a chocolate cake."

"Cake? I could eat cake." Mart gave in to the brief sojourn with more grace than before and feel into an easy step next to Di. "All right, Di, you have successfully placated me. Lead on, fair lady." He laid his hand lightly on her waist, savoring the feel of her under his hand, and walked next to her on the way to the clubhouse, with Honey and Dan in tow, leaving the other two members on the dock and alone.


	11. Chapter 10

Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Ten

Her attention focused solely on the small device in her hand, she didn't hear the muffled voices of her friends only a few yards away. Instead, she kept her back to them, not because she was all that angry anymore or wanted to shut them out, but because she was suddenly starting to feel small pangs of concern that demanded to be heard and were making her heart beat out a rhythm she didn't like. Another wrong number. That would make one each day since Thursday. She flicked open the phone, almost a little afraid of what she would find, and punched in the numbers until she made it to the screen for her made/received calls. Each odd call stared back at her, all from different phone numbers, and all from different times. Pursing her lips, she couldn't decide if that should make her feel relieved or worried.

On silent feet, Jim came up behind her and gently touched her elbow, alerting her to his presence. "Penny for your thoughts," he offered quietly.

So intent on the results of her search, she jumped when she felt his touch. She whirled around, a turmoil of emotions swirling in her blue eyes, so many that he couldn't place them all, and too many for her to hide from him. "Sorry, Jim, I didn't hear you," she said breathlessly.

He gently took the cell phone out of her hands and sat down on the edge of the dock, motioning for her to take the seat next to him. He was surprised. She didn't seem to be the ball of fury he had expected. What she was made him more unsettled and uneasy. He hid it well and gently teased her, hoping to gain more insight, "You still haven't told me what you were thinking."

Trixie followed suit, her shorter legs dangling off the dock and nowhere near to reaching the calmly moving water below. "Not too much right now," she responded, coming to a swift decision. She was going to shelve the thoughts of the odd phone calls for now, unless they would multiply in number. There was nothing she could do about them and certainly no connection she could make. All she could do was to stay alert and keep track of the calls. If they should continue, then she would seek advice on how to handle them. Right now, they seemed to be more of a nuisance than anything else. "Just thinking about ways to get even with that idiot brother of mine," she finally remarked when he continued to stare at her.

Noting the pause between her statements, he wondered what thoughts had been circulating around in her fascinating brain. But she wanted it easy so he would follow her lead. "He has some imagination, that's for sure." Jim believed in giving credit where it was due. Mart had earned it.

"I thought it was going to be hard for him to top his last choice for me," she responded, giving her head a small shake and sending her curls dancing. She even managed a giggle that had a bit of mirth to it. "I was wrong."

"What was the last one?" He was curious but also wanted to keep her talking. Normally he didn't have any trouble reading her face. Something was still a little off with her and he couldn't put his finger on it. He didn't like it, not one bit. He wanted to find out what it was.

"_Barbie Girl_," Trixie answered, actually feeling her lips tilt up at the corners into a small smile. "Can you believe it? I can't think of a more inappropriate song for me, unless it's the last one he gave me." She couldn't bring herself to say the title, not in front of Jim.

She really was clueless, he decided with a start after studying her. She didn't realize how adorable and, well, how sexy he found her. It was his turn to flush. Clearing his throat, he held up her phone and announced, "Well, let me fix it for you, Trix. I'll be glad to give you a new ring tone. Do you have any requests?"

"You can't believe how much I appreciate that fact that you ask," Trixie said with a sardonic laugh aimed towards her brother. She gave a small shudder at his choices. "No, no requests, Jim, just something that won't make me feel mortified or horrified or get me in trouble when the phone rings." It was too bad her parents hadn't heard the ring. She imagined they wouldn't have been very pleased with Mart.

He started checking his options, quickly ruling out the more sentimental songs that readily came to his mind. They would be rather inappropriate, considering the two of them were only in a friendly relationship, despite the fact that he was expecting something more, very soon. He finally came upon the theme to _Mission: Impossible_. It seemed like a good choice and certainly fit her chosen profession, plus it didn't give away his feelings for her, as many of his first choices would have. He had it downloaded and set up within a matter of seconds. "All done. Do you want to hear it?"

"No. I have a feeling I'll like this surprise much more than Mart's half-baked ideas." She glanced back at the table but was surprised to see it empty and frowned. How did she miss that? "Hey, where did everybody go?"

Jim followed her eyes. He had a strong suspicion on the motive behind the sudden and unexpected exodus but kept it to himself, not wanting to make her feel embarrassed or uncomfortable. It was clear to him that their friends had elected to give the two of them a little space, most likely thinking that Trixie needed some time to calm down. "Probably for a walk." He didn't elaborate.

That was good enough for her. She didn't look much further into it than that. "It's a good thing Mart left. I've been barely resisting the urge to drown him in the lake," she shared, only half-joking.

"A little bloodthirsty this afternoon, aren't we?" Jim murmured back to her. He was mesmerized the way the breeze lifted a curl and blew it across her face, making it dance across her cheek and her nose. Before she could brush it back, he had captured it, felt the soft, silky texture of it, and then tucked it back behind her ear. He left his hand there a little longer than necessary but finally dropped it when she turned her gaze on him.

It was her turn to clear her throat. It suddenly felt like an army of frogs had taken up residency there. "I guess it's been a long weekend," she admitted when she was reasonably sure she could speak. She wasn't sure how to explain her tumultuous feelings but it was Jim. She could tell him just about anything. And she would try her best to explain it. "I'm not quite myself. I kind of feel like I've been under one of those gray clouds where it only rains on that one, and unfortunately, unlucky person in the comics. The rest of the world goes on, bathed in sunshine, while the poor sap, that would be me, gets poured on. You know what I mean, right?"

He knew. He simply didn't understand why. Jim peered into her eyes, finally feeling like he was getting to the heart of the problem. Intentionally keeping his voice quiet, he inquired carefully, "Why would you say that, Trix?"

She hmmphed, looked up at the darkening sky. "Well, let's look at the evidence." She started counting out the incidents on her fingers. "One, I was thrown off of one of the most gentle horses around. Don't interrupt," she ordered him, holding up her hand to halt his forthcoming objections. "Two, I managed to lose my favorite hat sometime after that fall. Three, somehow the front driver's side door on my mom's car came to be scratched, while it was in my possession. I'm lucky that Moms believed me when I told her I had no idea how it happened. She wasn't mad at me and didn't hold me responsible. And four, Mart just embarrassed me to death in front of my closest friends." Five, the odd hang-ups she had been receiving. Six would be the interesting note that she had found in her backpack. She still had no idea if it was meant for her. But she kept those instances close to her chest like a gambler with his cards, unwilling to show them. She gave a small laugh, devoid of her usual mirth, and settled her gaze at some point out on the water. "Gray rain cloud from the comics, without a doubt."

He really didn't like hearing the defeated tone to her voice, which was usually so upbeat and positive. Wanting to look into her eyes, he gently turned her face towards his. He couldn't tell her that it was silly to feel that way, not wanting to belittle the feelings that were eating away at her. Instead, he simply stared into her face, waiting for her to bring her gaze to his. It took a minute but she finally did. Ignoring the list she had given him, he started off by asking her quietly, "Do you know what I see, Trixie?"

She had expected him to knock down her worries, hurry past them with the force of a steamroller, or swat them away like they were a bothersome fly, not ask her a question. Then she felt even worse. He wouldn't do that to her. Curious, she couldn't resist responding. "What's that, Jim?"

"I don't see a target, not like the one you are describing." It was hard but he chose his words carefully, censoring what he really wanted to say. He made his voice as firm as he could. "You are strong and courageous, kind and helpful, with a touch of impulsiveness that sometimes gets you into trouble. I don't see someone who gives in, and certainly not someone who is pessimistic."

The admiration in his look made her cheeks tint with a soft rose. She stared back, unable to look away, and felt immensely flattered by his words. Many of her worries disappeared. It was nice to have someone believe in her. When that person was Jim, it made it all the more sweeter. "Thanks, Jim. I needed that," she got out hoarsely. "I don't like pity parties anymore than the next person."

Throwing caution to the wind, he dropped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. "You can always count on me, Trix. Don't forget that," he told her intently.

"As if I ever could." Trixie felt the remains of her darker mood leave her and let herself enjoy the ease of being near him. It was with a small laugh, this time with actual humor to it, that she remarked rhetorically, "How many times have you bailed me out in the past?"

There was no need to answer. "I'll be there to keep bailing you out, if you need me." Then he hesitated but quickly added, "Although I have to admit I really hope you don't need me to bail you out, Trix. I rather like it when you are safe and sound."

"Me, too. I'll do my best." That was all she could promise. Both knew if she said that she would never get in some kind of trouble again, it would be a lie. Trouble and Trixie seemed to go hand-in-hand.

The wind picked up again, gently lifting her hair. Her eyes were their normally sparkling blue, without any of the hints of deeper emotions in them. Her lips were tilted up at the corners. He sucked in his breath and damned himself. If there ever was a perfect time to kiss her, this one was it. Alone, on the dock, sitting together in a perfect and complete harmony, Trixie tucked under his arm, with only one insurmountable thing stopping him. He gritted his teeth, stared out over the water, and fervently wished her graduation had happened yesterday. The urge was the strongest he could remember feeling but he resolutely tamped it down. Searching for something else to say, hoping for a distraction, he eventually came up, "Tell me something else that's new in your life."

She didn't have an inclination of the path for his thoughts. "I get to work the reception desk on Tuesday at the Country Club." It was the first thing that came to her mind. Not particularly interesting but there it was. "Honey is working there after school on Monday and Di is taking the Wednesday shift. Then Di and I are working together on Saturday. Honey decided not to."

"She's very excited about our parents coming home," Jim remarked easily, realizing the exact reason why Honey had not offered to work on the weekend. "She's been looking forward to their arrival home for a while now."

"Then Honey and I start as lifeguards on Memorial Day, right after the prom. The pool opens officially on Memorial Day and then on weekends until school lets out." It always felt good to share little tidbits of her life with him. Jim always seemed very interested in what she was doing.

The prom. Right. He didn't hear a single word she had said after that one. He knew the three girls were going together and that they all had dates. Honey had kept him up to date...sort of. She had never shared Trixie's date with him, most likely on purpose. He was sure she had wanted him to ask her for it. He bit his bottom lip, wondered if he should ask. "I know Honey is going with Michael Hartman. He seems to be a nice guy." Nice was all he had received from his in-depth search through friends and acquaintances in Sleepyside, enough to settle his mind that he was an okay date for his sister.

She swung her legs, thankful to be talking about something easier than herself. "Yeah, they have a few classes together. Both decided it would be nice to go together and have a good time, without any pressure of being a couple. Honey's happy about it." Although she would much rather have gone with Brian but Trixie didn't offer that.

"And Di?" Jim hated fishing around but he didn't know how to bring up the name of her date for the dance. She had one, that much he knew, some nameless, faceless guy who was the unfortunate recipient of his jealousy and who had no idea of the gift he had been given when Trixie had agreed to go with him.

Trixie hesitated minutely before replying, "Ethan Evans." She wasn't going to tell him the truth Honey had shared with her, that Di really was dateless and holding out for Mart. She glanced back at the picnic table and briefly pondered if Di was asking him now. Probably not, she decided. Di would want more privacy. Then she added in a quiet undertone, not looking at Jim, "I was talked into going with Alex Simpson."

He finally had a name. He could run with that. He'd start his own research into the teenager but was sure he would come up with nothing to prevent Trixie from attending the Senior Prom with him. Her parents wouldn't have let her say yes if he was a member of a biker gang or something along those lines. He latched on to the one thing he could ask her about without feeling like a total fool. "Talked into?"

She grimaced a bit. "Yes. Honey and Di were mortified when they found out I didn't want to go. They hounded me, practically morning, noon, and night, for two weeks straight until they finally wore me down. So, there you have it. I'm filling out our triumvirate to please them. I'm not all that excited about going." Wanting to add that it wouldn't have taken any pleading at all if Jim had been the one to ask her, she folded her hands together and looked out over the water.

He would have loved to have been her date, but there was that blasted edict from his parents preventing it. Nothing, not until she graduated. Worse, he had given his word and his deep sense of honor ingrained in him by his biological father wouldn't allow anything less. He covered up a sigh with a cough and hoped he wasn't around when the girls got ready for their big night. He was sure that Dan would let him hide out at the cabin, far away from the female rituals and endless picture taking that he knew the evening would entail. It would be better for her date's health, too. At least she really didn't appear to be all that excited about going. That made him feel a smidgeon better.

"You never made it to your prom, did you?" Trixie asked, breaking a moment of silence.

He shook his head. The school had a strict policy about not letting underclassmen attend the Senior Prom. His one and only choice was sitting next to him and, at that time, had fallen into that category. "I didn't mind missing it. If I recall correctly, I think Brian and I spent the night at my house, watching movies well into the early morning hours."

"That's right. Brian didn't go, either." It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why they hadn't attended but she didn't. Something stopped her. "An all-night movie binge, huh? I know I'd rather do that than go to some silly dance." The look of disgust on her face said it all.

Better and better. She may have a date but it was clear that she wasn't ecstatic about it. His mood lightened considerably. "Let me know if you change your mind about not going to the prom. I'm pretty sure I'm available. I've got a lot of movies." He gently touched her shoulder.

Trixie didn't know if he was serious or joking but, oh boy, did she hope he was serious. Going neutral, she responded as evenly as she could, "I'll keep it in mind."

He stood up from the dock and looked back at the picnic table. "I can't tell you where our friends have disappeared to but I do know they may be disgusted with us if we haven't at least cleared the table for them by the time they get back."

"You're right." She accepted the hand he offered and stood up, feeling eons better than she had when she had first walked down the dock. "We'll take care of it now. And I do believe that Di promised us cake, too."

"I think we can have a piece before the others get back." They walked side-by-side down the dock and approached the picnic table together. It didn't take them long to cover the containers and place what was left of the food back into the correct carriers.

"I'm going to keep Mart's plate out." Trixie laughed as she studied the half-eaten contents on it. It felt good to laugh again and to mean it. "He must have been dragged away with the others. He hasn't licked his plate clean yet."

Most likely his penance, Jim thought with a wry grin, and nodded approvingly at Trixie. She was herself again, full of fun and life, hopefully with her worries behind her. He knew he would keep a close eye on her, though, just in case. Then he pulled out the chocolate cake and cut him and Trixie each a slice. They sat back down at the table, next to each other despite the fact that the entire table was available to them, and enjoyed their cake while they waited for the others to return.


	12. Chapter 11

Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Eleven

"Where do you think everyone went?" Trixie questioned as she finished her cake. She glanced around in search of the missing foursome but couldn't catch a glimpse of them. It was oddly quiet without the others around and the two of them alone. As much as she loved being with her friends, she found she didn't mind it. She had more than enjoyed her alone time with Jim. She studied his handsome face as unobtrusively as she could, even though she knew it by heart.

"Maybe to the clubhouse," he suggested, extremely grateful to the friends who had given him such a treat. Uninterrupted time with Trix, during a group outing, no less. It was hard to come by. He couldn't believe that he had managed to get two separate occasions with only Trixie during the same weekend, slightly astonished at the lucky streak he was on. He wasn't used to it. Most of the time there was at least one or two other friends around. He hoped it boded well for the approaching summer. "What do you have to do when you get home? Any homework?" He was ready to offer to help her, should she need it.

"No homework for me but I do have chores, chores and more chores," she answered back with a laugh. "I was a little busy with homework this past week. Something needed to give. Moms was understanding, of course, as she always is, and let me off the hook." She rolled her shoulders and spoke regretfully, "Unfortunately, it is time to pay the piper. The second I get back to the house I need to get started. I have a list of chores a mile long. I really can't complain, though. I've had a pretty packed weekend." She paused, looked down at her hands, and then added shyly, "It's been the best weekend I've had in a long time, too."

He saw the slight pink that tinged her cheeks. There could have been many reasons why she had said it one of the best weekends she had spent but he knew that she meant it because they had spent a lot of time together. "I'll second that," he agreed smoothly, wondering if she caught the same reasoning behind his quick agreement. "Last weekend I was preparing for my finals and finishing up projects. It's been a treat to be home."

"Brian mentioned that one of your professors had asked you to be an intern for a summer job in the City. What made you decide not to do that and come home instead?" Her expressive face showed her natural curiosity.

The reason why was sitting twelve inches from him. Nothing, not even the most intriguing internship imaginable that had been presented to him, could have prevented him from spending the summer at home, especially when it was the summer that followed her high school graduation. His plans were big and his hopes were bigger. His professor had been astounded when he had turned down the offer, had tried to persuade him to change his mind, but Jim had been adamant. He was spending his summer in Sleepyside, where his own agenda outshone the experience he needed for his school. There would be other internships. "Oh, the internship wasn't all that interesting, Trixie. Besides, I would rather be home." He softened the little white lie with the truth.

"I'm glad you didn't stay in the City. I like having you home." Afraid she had revealed too much, she was quick to add, "And Mart and Dan, too. Now if only Brian would change his mind and spend the summer here..." Leaving the rest unsaid, Trixie's ears perked up. She heard the whistle before the small group appeared on the path. "Looks like they're finally back," she noted with a gleeful grin. "I'd know that whistle anywhere."

Jim saw that she looked relaxed and happy, a vast improvement over the way she had appeared right after Mart's prank and during their private talk on the dock. He knew the others would see the change in her, too, and waved as the small group came into sight, the two young women in front and the men behind them. They quickly came over to the table, the promise of the chocolate cake drawing them in.

Di caught Honey's eyes and pointed to Jim and Trixie, who were sitting next to each other while the rest of the spots were totally available. She gave Honey a thumbs-up sign, briefly wondering if the two of them would ever get it together. It was blatantly conspicuous to all of them that they were perfect for each other.

Moving slower than the others, his hands stuffed in his pockets, Mart was the last to sit down at the table. With a wary look to his eyes, he aimed a small smile at Trixie, unsure if she would reciprocate it, but didn't offer her any words. There were a few too many people around. He would have to verbally apologize later. He felt relieved when she returned his smile with a sunny one of her own, without any hint of ire or irritation left on her face. Pleased that her temper had blown over and she no longer held a grudge towards him, he nodded and then picked up his fork, getting down to one of his favorite tasks, finishing his half-eaten lunch.

Honey had plopped down next to Trixie, also relieved to see that her earlier dark mood had been replaced with her normally cheerful disposition and squeezed her hand sympathetically. Honey was one of the few people Trixie talked to about her feelings when Mart teased her. Ever the tactful one, she overlooked the earlier incident and began the conversation. "We took a brief trip down memory lane," she informed them when Trixie and Jim gave her expectant looks. "It was a lot of fun. We went into the clubhouse and looked through many of the scrapbooks that we have on the shelves."

He had enjoyed himself more than he could have imagined. Looking through the scrapbooks had been more enjoyable than he had thought it would be. "It was a lot of fun. I forgot how many mysteries the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency has actually solved. You would think that Sergeant Molinson would cut you girls some slack when you tell him something weird or mysterious is going on. He should have learned his lesson by now." Dan cut himself a generous piece of cake. "Next time you'll have to come along," he added, straight-faced, and winked at the two who had missed out on the trip, certain that they didn't have any regrets about staying behind.

Trixie ignored the comment and handed Di a slice of the chocolate cake. "Here you go, Di. You'll have to tell your cook that the cake was delicious."

Di took a dainty bite of the cake and gave a low hum of approval. It was the best she had ever eaten. "You're so right, Trix. I'll be sure to do that the second I get home."

"We would have been back sooner but Di thought she heard something outside of the clubhouse. We couldn't leave without going out to investigate it, as you know. This outfit can't let anything go, no matter how innocent or how suspicious it may be, without investigating it to the fullest extent possible," Mart explained nonchalantly as he finally finished his lunch. Without wasting time, with the hollow leg he was known for having, he reached for a large piece of cake and started in on that.

"What kind of noise?" Jim asked Di, one eyebrow arched.

Di put down her fork, her lovely face overshadowed with the anxiety of the memory. Praying she didn't sound like a fool, she attempted to explain, "I don't know how to describe the sound. We were all around the table, looking through the scrapbooks and reminiscing about our adventures, when I heard the sound. It was an odd noise, one that I'm not sure if an animal could have made or not. Definitely not a small animal. It was a little too loud for an animal like a rabbit or a chipmunk or a squirrel to have made." Her lips settled into a frown although she released a small, nervous laugh. "I'm rambling. I don't think I'm making any sense. I guess it's just my intuition. I didn't like it, whatever it was."

It hadn't unnerved Dan. He swallowed and offered, waving his fork in the air, "We gave a brief search around the clubhouse but came up with nothing. There weren't any tracks or any other signs that something had been there." Giving a shrug, he added, "I think it must have been a deer."

Jim didn't say anything. He slid an intent gaze towards Trixie, who was staring at Dan and Di and absorbing all that they could tell her. An odd noise? he thought to himself and pondered if it was something to worry about or not. Maybe he would take a look around the clubhouse after everyone went home.

"I don't know about that, Dan. Deer generally move very quietly and, as you said, we didn't find any sign of a deer or any other animal. There was nothing outside to prove that an animal had made that sound." Then Di gave a sigh and threw her hands up in the air. "What does it really matter, anyway? Whatever made the noise is long gone and we certainly don't need to bother with it. What's done is done and that should be the end of it."

Trixie tilted her head and considered. It was odd, all right. Di had always had a strong sense of intuition. If she thought the noise hadn't been made by an animal, then Trixie was inclined to believe her. The lines on her head furrowed together as she contemplated the information her friends had given her.

Mart caught the look he knew so well on his sister's face, a jest on the tip of his tongue about mysteries, schoolgirl shamuses, and making mountains out of mole holes or, in this case, an unknown sound, but rapidly decided against voicing his teasings, much to his internal chagrin. He had already done enough of that for one day and didn't want to incure her wrath again, as well as the others around the table. He wouldn't be surprised if a few of the members would attack him if he attempted to tease her again, especially the redhead across the table from him. Steering a neutral course, mentally patting himself on the back for leaving well enough alone, he declared, "I say Di is right. We don't need to worry about it. All we need to do is enjoy this delicious cake." He held up his plate and looked at it with fondness. "It has to be the best cake I've ever eaten, with three layers of pure chocolate delight."

"You three must be counting down the days," Dan remarked idly as they all followed Mart's advice and made short work of their slices of cake. He looked at each girl in turn, finding it hard to believe that they were ready to join the ranks of high school graduates. "It won't be long until all of the Bob-Whites have graduated and no longer frequent the hallowed halls of Sleepyside Junior-Senior High."

"Hallowed halls?" Honey teased him, aiming her fork in his direction."We can all tell who you have been rooming with this past year. That's a Mart word if I have ever heard one."

Trixie leaned her chin on her hands, stars in her eyes at the thought of finally leaving her high school years behind. The next few weeks promised to be some of the best of her life. That final hurdle was in sight and she couldn't wait to reach it. "It is hard to believe that graduation is practically around the corner. I, for one, won't miss those halls, hallowed or not, one bit, and certainly not the classrooms. It'll be a relief to finally say goodbye to it." She meant it. Socializing with her friends had been the best part of high school. She could have done without the schooling aspect of it. Who needed homework? Not her. She still truly believed it was an instrument of torture instead of an established learning tool.

"I agree with you completely, Trix," Di said fiercely, forgetting about the noise. "These last weeks have to be the toughest, though. It seems so hard to stay focused on school work with the end so near. Senioritus started for me the second we got the first hint of spring weather, back in early April. It doesn't help that the teachers all seem to be assigning the hardest assignments right now, too. It's happened to all three of us," she told the boys seriously.

"I'm going to miss it," Honey broke in suddenly and with feeling. She was excited about the next part of her life starting but was a little melancholy about the ending of her high school experience. She had enjoyed every minute of it, from the start of her freshman year to the dwindling time remaining, and was a little forlorn that it was all coming to an end. It had been so much better than her boarding school experiences. She had finally found a wonderful group that she belonged to, truly and completely, and she couldn't have asked for a better set of friends. "This was the first school I ever attended that actually felt like a school to me. You have no idea how awful the boarding school was for me. Plus I got to go there with the most amazing friends possible. I am going to miss it!"

A small silence descended over the group. Trixie remembered the shy, almost sickly girl she had met, that fateful summer so long ago. It had brought two very important people into her life. It was hard to believe that the Honey sitting next to her was the same girl. She captured Honey's hand in hers and held on tightly to her best friend, smiling warmly at her. "I don't think I'll ever miss school, Honey, but I know I'll always remember the times we spent together."

"Now you're going to make me cry," Di cried out, feeling the moisture starting to gather in her eyes and making the three men look at each other in comical dismay.

"Enough of that!" Mart ordered strongly, speaking for all of the males present. He didn't like the sight of tears and wouldn't allow it on their picnic. "We can save all of this melodrama for your graduation day. No need for a rehearsal, ladies. You can share your memories and emotions with each other at a later date, preferably when us men-folk are not present."

"And, unless I miss my guess, we're going to get another type of waterworks very soon." Jim eyed the sky that was now completely gray, with the blue hidden from sight. The cool air almost smelled of the forthcoming rain. He stood up from his seat and started clearing his spot. "Call me crazy but I think it would be a good idea to clean up. Now."

They all started in motion, heeding Jim's words, and making quick work of cleaning up the remains of their picnic. The food was packed up, empty containers were placed back in the coolers, and the trash was bagged up. Then the group of six looked at one another, not really wanting their time to end but knowing that each one had responsibilities that were waiting for them, as well as the promise of a spring rainstorm rolling in momentarily. Still, no one wanted to be the first to say goodbye.

"You know, I have a great idea!" Honey exclaimed before everyone went their separate ways. She was still feeling sentimental and didn't want to leave. Her friends meant the world to her. "Why don't we set aside time on each Sunday to get together during the summer? I know Mart, Dan and Jim won't be working on Sundays." She stared at Trixie and Di, who were scheduled for weekend work. "We will but we can easily schedule a get-together around our schedules. It won't be that difficult, really. We could have picnics or cookouts or just get together to watch a movie or go swimming here in the lake. Anything. I don't care what we do as long as we spend time together. I don't want the summer going by without us seeing each other as much as possible." Her eyes pleaded with everyone to agree with her.

"That is a terrific idea, Honey," Di agreed immediately. She shivered and pulled her hood over her dark hair. "We can rotate houses or meeting places and catch up on each other's week." She clasped her hands together, a beautiful smile adorning her face, and felt that the matter was settled. "I second the motion made by Miss Wheeler."

"We can start next Sunday," Mart said enthusiastically. "Brian will be back by then and we'll actually have our entire club together, in the exact same spot. It's been a long time since we've been that lucky." He rubbed his full stomach. "I also vote that we always have food at our gatherings."

Everyone laughed at Mart. Trixie caught a forgotten soda can that had rolled under the picnic table out of the corner of her eye and went back to pick it up. As she reached down to get it, she suddenly got that odd sensation that continued to plague her again. Like an animal sensing oncoming danger, she lifted her head, eyes narrowed, and looked for the source, her body as still as a statue. It was disconcerting, especially when she couldn't see anything unusual, just like the other times. Maybe it was Di's talk earlier about an odd noise near the clubhouse that had brought on the feeling this time, she thought to herself as she broke her frozen stance and moved quickly back towards the group of friends, sidling up as close to Jim as she could get without being too obvious. She immediately felt safe and protected and did her best to ignore the uneasiness that was threatening to swamp her. She was beginning to despise these sensations with a vengeance and fervently wished she could find the reason behind them or that they would stop.

Not knowing the state of the tumultuous thoughts tumbling around in her mind, Jim gave her his lopsided grin. Before he even knew of his intentions, he brought his hand and lightly rubbed it over her back, leaving his hand to rest on her waist. He wasn't one to question why she had the sudden need to get close to him but he wasn't going to argue with it. He was merely glad to appreciate it and hoped she felt the same way.

Honey and Dan caught the brief interplay and exchanged amused glances. Di hadn't, more concerned about how she was going to get home without getting soaked. Walking wasn't an option now. "Is anyone willing to give me a ride back to my house? My mom dropped me off on her way into town today. I told her that I would either walk home or get someone to drive me." She pointed to the ominous sky. "I don't think that walking is going to be an option."

Mart was overly enthusiastic in response, his words practically tripping over themselves in his effort to get them out before someone else offered. "Of course, Di. You can consider me your chauffeur, Miss Lynch." He bowed lowly towards her and offered her his arm, which she took without a moment's hesitation. Then he waved his free arm with a flourish and added, "Allow me to lead you home." They started towards Crabapple Farm, her soft giggles floating back to the remaining group, her arm still in the crook of his, and his free arm wheeling his cooler behind him.

"Well, I'll see all of you later. Thanks for a wonderful time." Normally Trixie would have dallied a bit but not today. All she knew was that she didn't want to be left alone on the path. It had never bothered her before but she decided then and there that she wouldn't be walking anywhere by herself, not until these odd sensations ceased to exist. She couldn't quite shake the feeling of apprehension, no matter how hard she tried. She sent a wave to her friends, gave one last long look towards Jim, and then hurried to catch up with Mart and Di.


	13. Chapter 12

Into The Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Twelve

The clouds turned to a threatening gray, the wind picked up, and the temperature dropped a good ten degrees, all in the span of the past few minutes. Honey gave the sky a wary glance and hugged her arms to her body, shivering with the sudden cold. "Oh, my, but the storm is going to be here any minute. We'd better hurry home."

"I'm stopping in at the stables before heading out to the cabin," Dan informed his friends as the three started in the opposite direction of the Belden siblings and Di. "All my stuff from school is there, plus my truck. I left it there in case Regan should need it during the semester. It's not all that practical to have a vehicle in the City, plus the New York drivers there are just plain crazy. You take your life in your hands the second you get behind the wheel. I prefer walking or taking the bus." The first fat raindrop fell from the sky, landed with a plop in front of them. They quickened their pace.

"I believe the weather forecast was quite wrong," Honey remarked as the three moved quickly up the path, burdened down with the leftover supplies from the picnic, and dodging the rapidly falling raindrops. Each wanted to reach shelter before the rain picked up in earnest. "Maybe we should have moved our picnic inside instead of trying to stay with our original plan."

"At least the rain waited until we were nearly finished. It's better to have it now than right at the beginning" Jim picked up the cooler and carried it. He made much better time that way. He sent one last look towards the clubhouse, sighing because he knew he wouldn't have a chance to search around it now. The rain would wash away any evidence, if there was any to begin with.

The impressive Manor House came into sight, standing majestically against the dark, foreboding clouds and the falling precipitation. Honey burst ahead like a shot from a gun and sprinted towards the front porch, not wanting to get wetter than she already was. She yelled behind her, the wind carrying her words back to them, "I'll see you inside, Jim! It's raining too hard for me out here. Welcome back, Dan!" It didn't take her long to reach the house and head inside to the safety and comfort of her home.

Dan didn't follow her. Instead, his long legs brought him to the stables where he saw his uncle working frantically to get the horses back into their stalls. A loud crack of thunder spooked the horses and separated them, sending them running around the paddock in different directions. He raced through the raindrops that were falling in larger numbers and entered the paddock, with Jim close behind him, as the first flash of lightning lit up the sky and made it as bright as midday on a normal sunny day for the entire duration of the streak. Then it became eerily dark again, the second the streak disappeared. Together, all three of the men worked together against the pounding rain to get the horses out of it and into the protection of the stables.

"I'm surprised the storm rolled in this quickly," Regan muttered, shaking the rain out of his red hair. The pace of the storm had taken him by surprise. He had expected it to come in much later and hadn't been prepared. Working quickly, he started with Lady, making she that she was safe, sound, and comfortable in her stall. He talked soothingly to her, knowing that she was easily scared by thunderstorms. Then he grabbed a dry towel and began the process of rubbing the water off of Jupiter, not wanting them to catch a chill. Jim and Dan copied him, working in silence broken only by the soft whinny of a grateful horse, until all of the horses were taken care of and eating fresh hay.

Jim patted Susie on the nose, the last horse he had worked with. Susie nuzzled into his hand. "Trixie and I took Starlight and Susie out for a ride yesterday. Did you know that this little darling threw her off during our ride?" Jim asked Regan quietly.

Regan lifted his head from Strawberry's stall. "What?" he got out, incredulous, staring at Jim as if he had grown two heads. "You have got be kidding me, Jim. Trixie's much too good of a rider and Susie is a very well-trained horse." He leaned over the stall and studied the younger redhead intently. "I want to know what happened." He didn't like the fact that one of his horses had behaved so badly.

"Neither of us knows, really," Jim told two pairs of surprised eyes. He shrugged his shoulder. "I saw it all happen. All Trixie was doing was attempting to mount Susie. The second she sat down, Susie let out an awful scream and unseated her. Trixie was thrown high in the air and took a hard fall. She's lucky that she didn't get seriously hurt." He thought about that rock again, the one that had been only mere inches away from her head and shook his head. She'd been lucky, luckier than she realized.

Regan gave an indistinguishable grunt and came over to the stall. He stared into Susie's soulful eyes, gently rubbing her soft velvety face. He had no reason to doubt the scenario Jim had told him but it didn't ring true, not with the knowledge he had of Susie and the strong faith he had in Trixie's riding ability. "Something must have happened to you, Susie. What was it, girl? Why would you do that to one of your favorite people?" Susie pawed the ground, almost as if she was trying to tell him something, and gave him a soft neigh. That didn't help Regan or cure his anxiety over the whole ordeal.

Jim correctly read the disappointment and worry on Regan's face. "Look at this, Regan," he said, waiting until the groom came into the stall and stood next to him. Then he pointed to the small scab on her back. It was hard to find, would have been easily overlooked if one didn't know where it was. He only found it because he had cleaned it out the day before. "I found this wound after I took her saddle blanket off. I cleaned it out. I thought maybe she had been stung. What do you think?"

Regan inspected the tiny wound, nodding in approval at the way it was healing. "Hmm," he mumbled. It didn't look like the mark of a bee sting. At least, not like the ones he had ever tended to. "It could have been, I guess," he finally remarked, his voice uncertain to his own ears.

Dan stood in the opening to the stall. He gave an absent pat to Susie, who seemed to enjoy being the center of attention. She tossed her head back. He could have sworn that he saw her smiling. "I just saw Trix, so I know she is okay. I didn't see any bumps or bruises on her. Did the fall hurt her?" he questioned Jim.

"Not really," he answered as both men listened to him. "Both of you know Trixie very well. She always bounces back quickly, no matter what has happened to her. We've seen that pattern for years. She had the wind knocked out of her and I'm sure she was pretty sore. When we got back to the stables, the first thing she did was check on Susie."

Regan studied the wound again but didn't voice his concerns. It didn't make any sense to him. Puzzled but without any way of finding out the reason why Susie had acted very uncharacteristically, he gave one last pat to her hindquarters and then announced to the young men, "I'm heading down to the office if you need me. There is a stack of mail a mile high for me to go through, plus some paperwork I need to get in order for the coming week. Thanks for your help, boys. I'll see you later." He clapped his nephew on the shoulder, never being one to give in to displays of affection, and walked back to his office.

"Poor Trix. I would never have guessed it from her appearance at the picnic today. She looked fine." Dan walked to the front door and stared outside, the corners of his mouth pulling down. The rain was pouring down in earnest, a true spring storm, as rumbles of thunder could be heard and occasional bursts of lighting streaked across the sky. "I have absolutely no desire to head out there right now. What about you, Frayne?"

Jim joined him and grimaced. The sight of the rain made him cold simply by looking at it. The front door to his home may as well have been miles away. "Nope, Dan. I don't even have as far to go as you." He rocked back on his heels. "I believe I'm content to stay here. I'm sure the horses will be good company for me," he said with a grin.

Dan lifted an eyebrow. "Too funny, Jim."

"Do you think Trix is going to get back at Mart?" Jim asked after a moment of silence.

"I plan on helping her out," Dan laughed. "Mart played that same trick on me one time this past year. I forgot my phone one day because I was running late. Overslept, if you can believe that. He must have got his grubby little paws on it then." He shook his head at the memory. "I had a date that night with a very nice girl. Mart made sure to call me during the middle of it. I was mortified when _Pour Some Sugar On Me_ came out of my phone. All I could hear was his laughter on the other end. She looked disgusted and made some excuse to leave early after that."

"Last time you went out on a date with her, huh?" Jim bit back a chuckle. After he nodded, he mentioned wryly, "Probably a good thing. It doesn't sound like she had the best sense of humor in the world."

"That's for sure." Dan's eyes glinted with mischief as he shared how he had evened the score. "I didn't try to get Mart back for a few weeks. I figured I'd let him settle into a false sense of security. Then, one day when he was taking a shower, I changed his ring tone and turned it off of vibrate. He always keeps his cell on vibrate so I knew he wouldn't check to see if anything had been changed. Then I made sure to call him during the middle of an important exam."

"That was mean!" Jim exclaimed as his low chuckles rang out in contrast to his words. He was interested. "What did you put on his phone?"

"One of the loudest songs I could think of. The very beginning of _Enter Sandman_. Poor Mart. He told me later that it brought the entire room to a standstill. His professor reamed him out afterwards. I think he may even had docked him five points on his exam. He wasn't very popular in the class the rest of the semester." He was unrepentant. Mart had deserved it, as far as he was concerned. "Needless to say, Mart never tried that trick on me again. He didn't speak to me for a whole day, too, which has to be a record for Mart. He loves to talk too much."

The beauty of the scheme wasn't wasted on Jim. He'd been planning on trying to help Trixie but he backed out. He bowed to the master. "You can help Trix come up with an idea to even things out with her brother. You would be much better at it than me."

Dan winked at him. He already had a few ideas that he wouldn't mind running past Trixie when he got the chance. He was certain Mart wouldn't bother her again, would probably end up retiring his prank once they were through with him. The rain continued to pound on the roof. "What do you want to do to pass the time, Jim? The horses have been taken care of and don't need anything right now. I know where my uncle keeps some cards. Are you up for a game?"

"Sounds good, Dan." Jim walked to a small table near the back of the stables and sat down on one of the old rickety lawn chairs that had been banished to the stables a few summers ago. The table wasn't much better. One end tilted to the side. He gave up trying to fix it, deciding they would simply have to deal with it.

Dan came over a few minutes later, two decks of playing cards in his hands. "The decks are brand new so I know it has all its cards." He broke open and expertly shuffled the cards. "I thought we'd use both decks. That way it would be harder to count cards."

"Count cards? Isn't that illegal?" Jim lifted his eyebrows. "Remind me to never take you to Vegas with me. You'd have us in so much trouble."

Dan gave him a fiendish grin. "Most likely. How about a rousing game of blackjack? I know poker isn't one of your favorite games."

"It's not that I don't like poker. It's that I don't like playing the game with you," Jim clarified drily as he took the cards from Dan. None of the Bob-Whites would play against their friend, having learned quickly that he had an amazing skill for the game, acquired from his time when he belonged in a gang, and rarely lost. "However did you manage to find saps stupid enough to play with you during the school year?"

Dan's dark eyes gleamed at the fond memories of the poker nights he had attended his first year in college. "It wasn't too hard. Most guys around the dorm were always up for the game. I was lucky enough to fall in with a crew who all had a love for internet poker. It wasn't difficult to convince them to play it for real. Mart absolutely refused to, though. He watched and offered commentaries throughout the games." Dan sat down gingerly on his lawn chair, breathing a silent sigh of relief when it didn't crumble under his weight.

"I'm sure you led the poor unsuspecting fools on a bit." Jim gave a small shudder. It was a good thing they had never played for money. Dan would have cleaned up every time. He could bluff better than the six of them put together and his instincts were spot on.

"I know how to play the odds in my favor," Dan replied with a satisfied smirk. He hadn't shown his prowess the first few times the small group of college students had gotten together, purposefully losing until he had the suckers exactly where he wanted them. Then it had gradually turned into a different story. He came out the winner the most often during the weekly poker nights, much to the chagrin of the others involved, although he intentionally lost a few times to prevent a case of serious hard feelings. He didn't want the fellows to despise him, after all.

Jim shook his head at Dan's cockiness. "Well, we'll see how you do with Blackjack," he suggested, willing to play with Dan since no money would be involved. He would never bet against the dark haired Bob-White. That would be insane. "Do you have the same skill in this game?"

"Nope," Dan answered truthfully. He could play it well but not with the same skill as poker. "I've always found it to be more of a game of chance. You simply have to make the right decision. More often than not, I chose the wrong one." He did know how to tilt the odds in his favor but didn't share that information with Jim.

Jim studied him closely, unsure if his friend was lying or not. Time would tell, of that he had no doubt. "Well, we're not playing for money. If we were, I'd walk away right now."

Dan's dark eyes lit up the same way the outside sky was flashing with lightning. "We'll play for the right to claim we're the winner." He spread out his arms, a disarming smile on his face, his strategy already forming in his mind and solid as a rock. He knew Jim's one weakness. A smart, savvy and petite blonde. The redhead didn't stand a chance. "You can deal, Jim. I'm ready when you are."

With practiced ease, Jim dealt them each two cards, the last set face up. He had a seven of diamonds showing. Picking up the edge of his hidden card, Jim noted that he had an eight. Fifteen, he mused silently, as he carefully watched Dan check his card and calculate his total in his mind.

A two showing, Dan hid a grin at his nine. Lucky eleven. He couldn't go wrong asking for another card. "You'll have to hit me, Jim," he ordered him easily. When Jim laid down a seven, Dan nodded and made a cutting motion with his hands. "I'll stand."

He couldn't tell if Dan was satisfied with his cards or not. Jim decided he didn't have a choice but to take another card. He took the next card, a four, which gave him nineteen and two away from the magic number of twenty-one.

"Other than the rain at the end, it was a great picnic," Dan began his strategy idly although the glint in his dark eyes belied his deceptively easy nature. He wanted to put Jim at ease and kept the chat simple before he brought out his big guns, so to speak."I enjoyed myself. Did you?"

Not distracted at all, Jim stayed. "Yes." He turned over his card and announced, "Nineteen."

He sighed, as if disappointed, although he was secretly glad that Jim won the first round. It was better this way. When he started in, Jim wouldn't catch on right away."You got me this time. I only have eighteen." He collected the used cards and put them off to the side. "Feel free to keep dealing, Jim. I'm happy sitting back."

More cards were dealt. This time Dan was showing a five, with another five hiding. "Hit me." He was pleased with the queen of hearts that appeared. Twenty. How perfect was that? There wasn't any reason to ask for another card. "I'll stay again."

Jim was at sixteen, an eight of spades showing and an eight of diamonds hiding, and unsure what to do. It was a conundrum. Should he call for another card or not?

"The girls sound happy to be graduating," Dan remarked conversationally, running a hand through his dark hair. Very carefully and deliberately, he brought up her name. "I thought Trixie seemed to be the happiest out of all three of them. We both know how much she has hated homework. I bet she can't wait to see the end of her high school years."

The mention of Trixie had its desired effect. Jim's head shot up, distracted, and he lost his thread of thought on the game. "I'm good," he muttered, not even remembering his number.

"I've got twenty," Dan announced smoothly, showing all his cards.

A whiz when it came to math, Jim was disgusted that he had to count his cards again. "Sixteen," he mumbled, taking the loss well and in stride.

"Well, we can't win them all, can we?" Dan noted with a small laugh. He sat back as far as he could in his chair, his hands behind his head, and nodded at his friend. "Are you ready? Let's play again."

Jim dealt the cards. He was pleased with his showing six and his hiding four. He didn't have any doubts about what to do and waited patiently for his friend to decide on his next move.

Dan had a king of diamonds winking back at him and a seven of spades showing him his back. He deliberately took his time, although he knew exactly what he was going to do. Finally, he responded to Jim's expectant look, "No cards this time." Knowing that timing was everything, he waited until Jim had given himself his next card, an eight of clubs, before remarking with feigned idleness, "I heard from Mart that the girls are all excited about going to their prom. It's in two weeks, you know," he informed Jim, in case he didn't know.

Distracted again, losing his count for a second time, Jim handed himself another card. A nine of clubs taunted him. Eighteen plus nine was well over the desired objective of the game. "Dammit," he swore curtly, going over the blessed twenty-one.

"Do you know who the girls are going with?" Dan continued casually, his face a portrait in innocence, as he collected the discarded cards and sat back, patiently waiting for Jim to deal again.

Jim halted his deal, brought his green eyes to Dan's black ones, and offered a low, guttural, "Yes." It was plain that he didn't want to talk about it.

Dan bit his lips to keep from grinning. He knew how to get to Jim, that was for sure. One mention of the blonde in the hollow and his friend was toast. It was too amusing. "Mart said they are all going together, of course, not that we would expect anything else. But then, Mart's a little disappointed that Di has a date." When Jim didn't hand out any cards, Dan pointed to the table and mentioned helpfully, "I'm ready if you are, Jim."

Jim frowned at his friend but gave him the necessary cards. His eyes were dark with thoughts he wasn't sharing. That damn prom was not one of his favorite things to think about, let alone discuss.

Dan hardly glanced at his cards. An ace of spades hiding, a queen of hearts showing. Twenty-one on the first shot. His lips twitched but he didn't smile. "No need. I'm staying." As he watched Jim attempt to decide what to do with his hand, Dan dropped his hands to his knees and picked up their one-sided conversation, "In a moment of weakness a few weeks ago, Mart shared with me that he would love to go with Di. I wasn't surprised. It's been pretty obvious for years that the two of them have special feelings for each other. Do you think anything will happen between them this summer?"

"I'm not a fortune teller," Jim replied, unwilling to give a guess on his friends' potential love life. He focused on his cards, wondering if he should hold on eighteen or go for it. It was with some reluctance that he held. "I've got eighteen, Dan."

"Twenty-one," Dan announced, showing his cards with an easy smile.

Jim's gaze became more intense, leveled in on Dan. "I thought you said you weren't very good at this game," he accused him.

"I'm not," Dan insisted truthfully. He wasn't the biggest fan of blackjack, didn't find the game all that interesting. But he was having a grand time. Unsettling James Winthrop Frayne the II was very enjoyable, indeed. "You've been giving me good cards, though." And I've been distracting the hell out of you, he thought, giving himself a mental pat on his back. "Why don't I deal for a while and see if you have the same luck?"

Jim handed over the cards, his competitive spirit kicking in. He didn't like losing. "Go for it, Dan." He was given a four of diamonds and a three of clubs. Easy decision. "Hit me." Getting an ace, he could have a seventeen or an eight. "And again." He got a two. Nineteen or ten.

Dan noticed the way Jim was intently deciding on what to do next. "Mart mentioned that Trixie had to be practically begged into going to the prom by Honey and Di. Do you think she'll have a good time?" he asked innocently.

"Of course," he ground out. Jim felt his cheeks flush at the thought of Trixie at the prom, even though she had admitted to him she really didn't want to go. He hated the thought of her going out with anyone. He despised the fact that she would do all those little feminine rituals, getting herself ready, for someone else. Glancing back at his cards to remind him what the hell his total was, he made the hasty choice to stay.

Dan hadn't asked for any cards. "Twenty," he showed his friend.

Jim groaned. He didn't have any luck, it seemed. "Nineteen."

"I bet your luck will get better next time," Dan encouraged him. Maybe he should let him win one game but then he dismissed the thought. He was having too much fun deflecting his friend's attention. "Here we go."

Jim lifted up his seven of spades and nodded. He had a total of ten. He was given a two of spades. Twelve. Too low to not ask for another card, but also the first dangerous number where he could blow it and go over. Jim debated on what to do.

Dan wanted to toy with him. It was the most fun he had had in months. "I think it's a shame that the girls are stuck going to their prom with dates that they really don't want to go with," he noted evenly, dropping the bomb with ease and carefully gauging his friend's reaction.

Jim's card fell to the table, revealing his hiding three, and sent Dan a glare that should have incinerated him. "What?" he practically exploded.

"Hey, I'm only a casual observer," Dan responded in his defense, his hands out in front of him while amusement danced in his dark eyes. He was a goner, that was for sure. Dan wondered if Jim realized that yet. "I call them as I see them. You would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to see that Honey wants to go with Brian and that Di wants to go with Mart. That leaves Trix. Who does she want to go with? I know for a fact that she doesn't want to go with me." He paused, arched an eyebrow at his friend, and gave him a sly look. "That only leaves one unaccounted-for Bob-White."

"I'll stay," Jim gritted out past his lips, forgetting what his actual number was again, unable to successfully do simple math for the first time in his life, and doing his best to ignore Dan's insinuations.

Dan flipped over his hidden card, revealing his total of eighteen. "I win again," he mentioned easily.

Jim tossed his cards on the table in total disgust, fed up with the game. It was finally clear to him how Dan had managed to win most of the hands. He vowed then and there to never, ever sit across a table from that maniacally grinning man who he had the misfortune to claim as a friend and join him in a card game again. "You're lethal, Mangan. Mark my words. I don't think I'm ever going to play another game of chance with you."

"Surely you jest. I'm sure there'll come a time when you want to play another game with me." Dan's eyes crinkled as he smiled at his friend, still not ready to let him off the hook. It was clear that the game was over and that the jig was up. "You haven't responded to my insinuation that it would make Trixie's decade if you took her to her prom."

"You're not going to leave this alone, are you?" Jim stood up from his chair and walked back to the front of the stables, giving Dan his back. He glanced outside, seeing that the rain was tapering off, and groaned at the footsteps coming his way.

"Nope," Dan replied with extreme good cheer. Coming up next to his friend, he asked him seriously, putting all teasing aside, "So, why hasn't anything ever happened between you and Trix? I saw the writing on the wall right after I met the two of you and that was a few years ago. At the time I thought you had to be certifiably insane to be interested in such a prickly little snoop. If you remember correctly, she wasn't that nice to me in the beginning, not that I deserved it. But, then, once I let my guard down and actually got to know her, I could see the charm. She's going to put you through all kinds of hell, with her penchant for getting herself into trouble, but somehow I doubt that will bother you too much." When Jim only continued to stare outside, Dan prodded a little more, "Are you ever going to ask her out?"

Only Brian knew about their parents' collective decision to not date the girls until they graduated from high school. Neither of them had ever discussed it with anyone. "Believe it or not, Dan, I don't really have a choice in the matter right now."

"You'll have to do better than that," Dan insisted quietly. He was glad that one of the biggest mysteries for him was going to be solved. He had never understood why the two co-presidents continued to dance around each other, never making any progress in any type of a relationship other than a friendly one, when it was as clear as two and two made four that the two of them were absolutely crazy about each other.

Jim leaned against the wall and sighed. "Brian doesn't, either. Our parents came to the brilliant conclusion that it would be best if we didn't date the girls until after they graduated from high school. They shared that information with us right after our high school graduation."

"Really?" Dan was a bit shocked. He pondered the information and then nodded. The past few years suddenly made a lot more sense. There was no way either Jim Frayne or Brian Belden would ever have gone against their parents' wishes, especially on something as important as this. "Well, that explains a lot," he finally retorted.

"We decided that they must have come to the decision together, since Brian and I were given the exact same talk." It was the one thing he had never agreed with his parents on but, left with no other option, he had been forced to wait the time out. He imagined the feelings of anticipation and relief he was feeling must be close to how an inmate feels right before their time is up. "Our parents felt that we were more mature than the girls and that we needed to focus on college while the girls needed to concentrate on high school."

"It won't be long until they are finally out of high school. Only a few more weeks." The time would go by fast. Judging from the way Jim had looked at Trixie all through the picnic, he had a strong feeling on what his friend was going to do, most likely the very second after she was handed her diploma, but he asked the question anyway, "What are you going to do then?"

Jim's small smile confirmed his suspicions. "I don't think I'm going to share that with you, Dan, not after the way you played me for a fool during our little game back there. I figure I'll let you puzzle that one out for yourself."

Dan chuckled, the sarcasm rolling off of him the same way the rain ran down the side of the stables. "And Brian?"

Jim's smile disappeared. He wasn't sure about his roommate. He was hoping to find out more about his friend's stance on Tuesday, when he went back in to pick him up. It was about time that they talked about it. The subject had been tabled for nearly three years. "We've never discussed it, not since the morning after our talk. It's a little odd, since we both wanted to date the other's sister."

Dan's instincts kicked in. His eyes narrowed. "Ah. But you think he won't."

Jim gave a small shrug. "I don't want to speak for him or put words in his mouth. You know that, Dan. I don't ever like to assume anything, especially about one of us. He's one of my best friends. All I know is I turned down an internship so I could spend the summer here. Brian has chosen to return to the City for one, which starts soon after the girls graduate from high school. What do you make of that?"

Dan thought about the information and came to the same conclusion. "I see what you mean." He glanced out the door, surprised by what he saw, and dropped the subject. "Can you believe it? The rain's just about stopped."

"Yeah." Jim pointed to the beam of light trying to break through the clouds. "The sun's trying to come back out." He stared back at his friend, knowing that he didn't need to ask Dan to keep their discussion a secret. "It's been an interesting hour, Dan. You are one hell of a gambler."

Dan winked at him. "Have a good day, Jim. I'm going to get my stuff and head out to the cabin. Mart has us starting our first lawn bright and early tomorrow morning. I think I'll be dreaming about ways to torture him tonight. I'll see you later."

Jim nodded and headed towards his home. He looked towards the path that led to Crabapple Farm, thinking about the few short weeks until her high school graduation. "Not too much longer," he mumbled as he let himself in the house and walked up to his room. It felt too good. He could hardly wait.


	14. Chapter 13

Into the Light

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Thirteen

Trixie glanced up at the clock in her classroom. Ten-fifteen. It seemed like the day was continuing to drag on, just like Monday had done before it. Yesterday's school day had seemed endless and today appeared to be rivaling it. She propped her face in her hands, willed her eyes to stay open, and pretended to listen to her teacher. It took a superhuman effort to even attempt to pay attention. Sleep had been fickle. It hadn't been easy to come by over the past two nights. Her mind continued to be in an unfaltering turmoil. Ever since the Bob-White picnic on Sunday, thoughts had begun to besiege her every time she closed her eyes. She couldn't shake them and continued to be bothered by them, much more than she cared to admit, even to herself.

Her teacher's voice sounded like it was coming from somewhere far away, droned on and on endlessly. Practiced in the art of at least appearing like she was paying attention when in fact her mind was somewhere else entirely, Trixie began listing the reasons why her nerves were on a ragged edge. A potentially suspicious note. At least one daily, mysterious phone call on her cell phone, all made from different phone numbers. When she had attempted to call the numbers back, she had received the same message. The phone numbers were no longer in service. Then there was the scratch on her mother's car, while she had been in possession of it. The feelings of being watched by someone she couldn't find. There had also been her fall from Susie, as well as the loss of her hat, but she couldn't piece together how those two items could fit in with the possibly shady happenings. But the worst part was not knowing if there was even an inkling of truth to the suspicions that were unwaveringly gathering steam in her brain. "There's a chance I could be seeing things that aren't really there," she grumbled softly, earning a hard look of annoyance from the girl sitting on the other side of her. Feeling guilty, Trixie flashed her an apologetic look.

Then she sighed. It was hard to decide if there was even a problem or it was all a figment of her imagination. That was the only reason why she hadn't shared anything with Honey. She glanced over at her partner, who hadn't heard her. She was intently scribbling down notes from the lecture, her eyes focused on their teacher. Trixie decided to copy her and started doodling in her notebook, hoping that she could at least pass for copying down the words of wisdom from their teacher. She figured that if she missed anything important, Honey could catch her up on it later. It was hard to actually take down highlights of the lesson when she wasn't listening to it.

The bell buzzed, causing Trixie to flinch and drop her pen. It cluttered to the floor with a small clang. She giggled, grateful that she could still laugh at herself, and gathered her things together. At least her sense of humor hadn't been touched.

Already packed up and ready to leave, Honey waited patiently. She shouldered her pink backpack and stood next to her desk, absently smoothing a hand over her hair. Tapping Trixie's shoulder as she stood up and walked past, Honey whispered in her ear, keeping her voice low so their teacher couldn't hear them, "Did you even hear a word that Mr. Jackson said?"

"No," Trixie admitted, embarrassed, as they exited the classroom. She felt a slight flush stain her cheeks. "I hope I didn't miss anything important. Did I? Any reports due or tests coming up in the next few days?" At Honey's shake of the head she breathed deeply. "That's good, then"

"Is everything all right?" Honey asked, unable to keep the concern out of her voice.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I didn't sleep too well last night, that's all." Trixie forced herself to meet Honey's gaze, not wanting to make her friend suspicious.

Or the night before, Honey thought. She had noticed the telltale signs of fatigue on her friend. "I thought so," she remarked easily, although her gaze sharpened as she waited for more of an explanation. "What kept you up?"

She gave a tiny shrug of her shoulder. They stopped at the end of the hallway, where the two would have to depart in opposite directions for their next classes, and moved closer to the wall so that the rest of the students could continue to filter past them. "It was just one of those nights, I guess. My mind didn't seem to want to stop working. Every time I closed my eyes, I started thinking. I couldn't shut it off. You know me," she chuckled, holding her hands out in front of her.

Normally that would mean Trixie was working out the kinks of their latest mystery. Honey studied her intently. If there was a mystery, Trixie hadn't been sharing. Anything. She decided to go on a fishing expedition. "Well, it couldn't have been about school. I don't think I've ever known schoolwork to keep you awake. If anything, it's bound to safely put you to sleep," she chuckled, wanting to put Trixie at ease.

"Truer words were never spoken." Trixie gave a small, exaggerated shudder and took the words with a good-natured smile. She couldn't argue with the truth. "Schoolwork and I do not go hand-in-hand, as you well know. But that's not what kept me up. I was thinking of other things."

She could only come up with one plausible reason. "Like how my brother is on his way to pick up your brother right this very minute?" Honey remarked, with a teasing glint to her lovely hazel eyes. She smiled when Trixie laughed. Maybe the answer to her sleepless nights was really that simple.

"That's right," Trixie said, feigning surprise and giving her forehead a smart slap. It felt good to be teased. It felt normal. And it helped chase away her fears, if only for a small moment in time. She laughed again, hoping to fool her sharp-eyed friend into believing there wasn't anything potentially wrong. "It is Tuesday. Brian is coming home today. How could I have forgotten that?"

Honey lifted an eyebrow, impressed with how Trixie ignored her pointed reference to her adopted brother, and felt her suspicions start to fade away. Trixie was acting like her normal self and seemed calm and collected. The relief Honey felt was immense. As much as she enjoyed solving a good mystery, she believed the two of them had enough on their plate for now. Maybe after graduation...Honey pondered whimsically before continuing their conversation, "There's a good chance they'll be home by the time our school is out. Jim left this morning at the same time that I did. He said that Brian is very anxious to get back home and wants to leave as soon as he can, right after his last exam, if that's possible."

"I'm anxious to have him home. He sounded tired himself the last time I talked to him. It'll do him good to be home for awhile, even if he has to head back to put his nose to the old grindstone soon after our graduation." Trixie pointed to her next class, down the nearly empty hall, anticipating the coming bell. There were only a few other students loitering about. "As much as I'd like to spend the rest of the morning chatting with you, Honey, I think we'd better get going before we're late."

"You're right. I don't want to be tardy, especially with our graduation right around the corner." Honey threw her a pretty smile, her slight fears laid to rest. But Honey wouldn't push her fears completely aside. She knew Trixie well. If there was something amiss, Honey would be there to assist in any way possible."I'll see you in about forty-five minutes for lunch, Trix. Have a good class!" She moved at a fast clip down the hallway and towards the home-ec room, a class Trixie had managed to successfully avoid for her four years of high school.

"Right," Trixie responded sarcastically. 'Good' and 'class' were not two words she would ever put together. She waved goodbye and entered her classroom. Thankfully sliding into her seat at the back of the room packed with seniors, she had just enough time to pull out a notebook and pen before her teacher entered. She had chosen a prime spot, far enough away from the teacher so that she could hopefully escape detection and wallow in her own thoughts instead. It worked, although she had as tough a time paying attention in her Humanities class as she had had in her three previous classes.

Luck, that oftentimes fickle thing for her, was on her side once again. Her teacher did not call on her, much like the rest of her teachers through her morning classes. Maybe it was the violet smudges under her eyes, telling them plainly of her recent difficulty with sleep. Or maybe it was the fact that her face was pale under the start of her spring tan. Or it could have been the way she sat perfectly still through each class, without her usual bouncy energy. Whatever it was, each teacher took pity on her and left her alone for which she was pathetically grateful.

When the bell rang for her lunch wave, Trixie reluctantly joined the river of students rapidly flowing along to the cafeteria, content to follow along at a much slower pace. Once inside, she sat down at their table, surprised to see that she was the first one to make it. Both Honey and Di should have had enough time to beat her to the table. Lifting her eyebrows, she first took out her cell phone and turned it on. It was with a great deal of relief she saw that there wasn't any missed calls and placed it on the table. Taking out her lunch bag, she pawed through it and laid her lunch out. An apple, a bag of pretzels, a ham and cheese sandwich, and a bottle of apple juice. None of it looked appealing to her. Knowing that her friends would have a million questions for her if she didn't at least attempt to eat, Trixie picked up her apple and slowly started taking bites.

When the melodious song of her cell phone interrupted her bite, she jolted in her seat and dropped her apple to the table. She hated being so damn jumpy, almost as much as had started to dread the ringing of her cell phone, despite the nifty ring tone Jim had chosen for her. Giving the inanimate object a look that should have reduced the poor, innocent thing to ashes, she hesitatingly reached for it and breathed uneasily into the receiver, her voice shaky and low, "Hello?"

"Hey, Trix!" Honey sang out cheerfully. "I wanted to let you know that we won't be eating in the cafeteria today. Di and I and the rest of our home-ec class are eating lunch in the kitchen. We had the best class ever. Our assignment was to plan and make a well-balanced nutritional lunch. It came out really well. I can't wait to try the spinach omelette Di made. Anyway, I'm calling to ask you if would want to come and join us. We don't want you to have to eat alone. What do you think? Do you want to come?" She paused for breath.

"No, thanks," Trixie refused politely. That would explain why she had made it to their table first. She grinned into the phone. "I wouldn't feel right about joining your class for lunch, not when I didn't help make anything. Don't worry about me, Honey. I don't mind eating alone. Really. I'll see you at the end of the day." She hung up after Honey said her farewells and stared at her food. At least now she wouldn't have to pretend she wanted to eat.

Her eyes focused on the large clock above the cafeteria. She watched the large second hand forward at its deliberate pace, mesmerized by the motion. Without her friends with her the lunch time seemed to go by slower than the proverbial trail of molasses. Needing something to do, she went through her backpack and placed a notebook and her afternoon textbooks on the table. Studying was an option, not her most favorite option, but one nonetheless, and it may even alleviate her boredom. She looked at her books in disgust even as she reached for one. It didn't appeal to her in the least.

"Hi, Trixie," a quiet voice interrupted her.

She glanced up, a frown still on her face, and absently opened her chemistry book. "Oh, hi, Alex," she greeted her prom date with forced enthusiasm that she couldn't quite hide. He was nice enough, that was sure, and she normally enjoyed talking with him but she really didn't want to be bothered right now.

He looked into the deep blue eyes, saw the distance in them, and bit back a sigh. It had seemed like a stroke of good luck when she had agreed to go with him to the prom. But, when she had insisted that they would only go 'as friends' and as part of a larger group with Honey Wheeler, Diana Lynch and their respective dates, a part of him had been very disappointed. Now it looked like she would rather eat lunch alone than spend a few minutes of time with him. He had a feeling that their prom night could be a very long night, indeed. "It's been awhile since we had a chance to talk."

She could tell he was waiting for an invitation to sit down. Hating the fact that she was being intentionally rude, she made no move to pack up her books. She didn't want company, was more than content to spend the lunch period alone, and gave him a tiny smile. "It has been awhile," she agreed with him, not being able to recall the last time they had spoken together. "School's been keeping us both busy, I guess. Lots of tests, papers and homework."

"Yeah." Not for him, but he didn't mention that. Starting to feel a little foolish and rather uncomfortable, he searched for a source of conversation and finally came out with, "I, uh, was wondering what color your dress was. You know, for the prom. I thought it would be a good idea to make sure that we match."

"Oh! Dress!" Trixie exclaimed, surprised, covering her mouth with her hand. She looked at him sheepishly. Of course she would need a dress for the dance. It only showed how much of a chore it was for her instead of a pleasure, since she hadn't made time to go shopping for one yet. She bit her lip, knowing full well that if the person she really wanted to go with had been her date, she would have had the entire ensemble ready the very next day. "I haven't picked one out yet. Honey and I are shopping this Sunday. We can't go this Saturday since I'm working," she explained haltingly, hoping she hadn't offended him.

Most of the girls he knew had bought their dresses a long time ago, practically the second after their dates had asked them to go. It seemed odd to him that she hadn't bought one yet. The prom was last than two weeks away. "Well, I guess you'll let me know on Monday then, huh?"

"Of course." It felt disconcerting. The closer the prom came, the more she regretted agreeing to go to it in the first place. She had no real desire to go with the nice young man in front of her, but she certainly didn't want to hurt his feelings and cancel out on him now. Besides, her friends would never forgive her and were the main reason why she had agreed to go in the first place. "I'm sure it will be blue, though. It's my favorite color," she offered consolingly.

"All right. Blue it is." He gave a small nod before a small moment of silence surrounded them. Shuffling his feet awkwardly, he finally blew out a breath and said, "I'll catch you later, Trix. Have a good day."

Trixie felt immensely relieved when he moved on. A nice guy and all but he wasn't the one for her. She closed her eyes, pictured the one who was, and felt her heart sigh with a slight pang of pain. She needed a distraction. Badly. "Maybe I'll give Brian a call," she decided after taking a small sip of her juice, her textbooks forgotten. She dialed his number and waited for him to pick up. Unfortunately, it went straight to his voicemail. He could be busy packing up, eating an early lunch, or still taking his exam; she wasn't sure which. "Hi, Brian!" she said overly brightly into her phone. "It's your favorite sister, calling to see where you are and how your exam this morning went. What am I saying? Of course you aced it, like you always do. It'll be great to see you when you get home today. Do you think you'll be there soon? I'll be there before heading in to work for the evening, so hopefully we'll get to see each other before then. Oh, tell Jim I said 'hi' and I hope you both have a safe trip home."

She ended the call and hoped Brian didn't think she was an idiot. That was one of the most long-winded, rambling messages she had ever left, proof positive that she wasn't acting like her normal self. She placed her phone on the table and pulled her chemistry book closer to her, reluctantly getting down to business. She had a feeling her teacher was going to give them a surprise quiz today. Students in an earlier class had been talking about it.

Halfway through the latest assigned chapter, practically needing to prop up her eyelids to keep her eyes open against the words dancing gleefully across the paper, her phone rang again. She didn't think about it, reached for it automatically, cradled it against her cheek, and answered it easily, "Hello?"

Nothing. Not a sound. Not a click. There was nothing but pure silence that stretched on and on. Instantly alert, a ball of fear starting to clutch her stomach tightly, Trixie sat up straighter, her pen slipping through her fingers. "Hello?" she said into the phone again, despising the almost desperate quality to her voice.

Still nothing but strangely eerie silence. "Is anyone there?" she demanded with fake bravado. "Speak now or I'm going to hang up." Ready to flip her phone closed, she was brought to a halt by a low, harsh chuckle on the other end, the sound sending small shivers coursing up her spine, and then the sharp click, signaling the abrupt end. She stared at her phone for an endless moment, a position she had found herself in far too many times recently, and flipped it close with trembling fingers. "What the hell," she murmured hoarsely, not one to swear but unable to come up with anything else appropriate to say.

Regaining her composure quickly, she flipped her phone back open and searched until she found the number of her last call. Yet another unknown number. Closing her eyes in a desperate attempt to block out her suspicions, she exclaimed softly to herself, "I really, really don't like this." Throwing a glance around at the other high-schoolers in the cafeteria, eating, laughing, and being cheerfully merry, a spear of jealousy went through her. Why the hell couldn't she be afforded that luxury? She wished she could be as carefree. Instead, she felt alone, completely and totally isolated, an odd sensation when in a crowded cafeteria with over one hundred and fifty students eating in the same lunch wave.

It was with shaking hands that she gathered the remains of her nearly untouched lunch, repacked them, turned off her phone and placed the objects back in her backpack. She didn't think she could handle another call, not like the one she had just received. Her prickles of unease multiplied. "What am I going to do about this?" she asked the air around her, her chemistry book laid out before her on the table, but didn't receive an answer.

Action would be better than being entangled in the multitude of her swarming thoughts. She shook her head, sending her curls bouncing, and closed her eyes against the harsh fluorescent lighting. "All right, all right. It's time to get yourself together. You can do this." The pep talk helped. She knew what she needed to do. Opening a notebook, she created a chart. It wasn't pretty but it got the job done. She wrote down the days of the week on one side and drew lines to add in the events that had happened to her on the other. "Sometime last Wednesday I was given a note, most likely when my backpack was left in the computer lab. Thursday, first hang-up at lunchtime. Friday, hang-up at home, in the evening. Saturday, there was a hang-up after twelve o'clock. Mart must have answered it. I didn't. Also, unexplained scratch on my mom's car. Sunday, Jim answered my daily mysterious call, right after one. Yesterday, hang-up as I was getting ready for school. And now one today, at lunch." She jotted down the information and studied the information with a frown before going back in to add in the days and times when she had the sensation that she was being watched.

Tapping her pen against her chin, she examined the list and didn't like what she saw. "I don't know, I don't know," she mumbled, her lips pursed together tightly. It seemed to be a series of such small circumstances, almost too insignificant to be anything serious. Yet, when it was catalogued together, staring back at her in unforgiving black and white, it made her uneasiness blossom and thrive and threaten to overtake her. Her instincts, always tuned in to the mysterious and the suspicious, were on red-alert. "Is this something to worry about? Could this be what I think it is?"

She didn't want to think about the awful possibility, resolutely pushed the potentially frightening explanation out of her mind. It took an effort but she did it. For once, she refused to jump to conclusions. She was not going to come up with an explanation until she had more conclusive facts, if there were anymore facts to gather. Part of her prayed that there wasn't. This was one time she would rather not have a mystery to solve. Taking a deep breath that was meant to be calming but did nothing more than supply her with much-needed air, she ordered herself, "Be cautious. Be careful. No looking before you leap." Then she gave a low, self-deprecating chuckle. "Even if I don't even know for certain if there is anything wrong." But she could feel something in her bones and she did not like it.

The warning bell signaled the end of her lunch wave, bringing her back into reality and propelling her into action. "It's time to get ready," she whispered sardonically "Just listen to me, talking to myself. Maybe I really am going crazy." She grabbed her things in a huff and headed out of the cafeteria, feeling more alone than ever. Normally, she tried to avoid the throng of students but today she found herself attaching herself to it and thriving within it. Safety in numbers. She was going to do everything she possibly could to make sure she was safe.


	15. Chapter 14

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Fourteen

Jim hiked up the four flights of stairs to the student apartment he shared with Brian, taking the steps two at a time. Fumbling in the front pocket of his jeans, he searched for his keys, finally finding them and sliding them into the various locks on the door. A twist of his wrist and he opened the door. Not surprising, the small apartment was tranquil. Not a sound within. He stood in the doorway, looking around the room. "Brian must not be back yet," he muttered quietly. After glancing at his watch he noticed that it was only a little after nine o'clock in the morning. Frowning, he wished he had paid closer attention to Brian's final exam schedule, then he would have known exactly when to arrive to pick his friend up.

The apartment hadn't changed much in the few days he had been away. It was a rather bland apartment, with white walls and hardwood floors. There wasn't a lot of character to the place. The two had focused more on their work than on the ambiance of their temporary home. The walls were relatively bare, except for one framed picture of the seven Bob-Whites hanging crookedly on the wall. A few mismatched throw rugs dotted the floors. He took it all in, noticing the large room that served as the kitchen, dining room and living room. A small counter blocked off the kitchen, acting both as a divider between the kitchen and the living room, as well as their kitchen table. The living room had an old shabby sofa with a large assortment of pillows, as well as a worn recliner, two plastic lawn chairs and an old card table, a cast-off from many game nights held at the Belden household in years past. A television set sat on a small table, complete with a DVD player and a Wii, both high school graduation gifts meant to help alleviate the stress of college life. The tiny bathroom and the two equally small bedrooms were located down the hall.

He sauntered down the hallway, looked into his room first. Still as neat and empty as he had left it, with only a clean set of sheets on the bed and two dark green curtains framing the lone window. The textbooks he hadn't sold back to the bookstore were lined up neatly on his bookshelf. Nothing was left out. Everything was still in its place. He had brought home his laptop and printer, not wanting the items to be left alone in the apartment for so long. Only his winter clothes remained in the closet. Satisfied everything was the way he had left it, he stepped out and looked across the hall into Brian's room. He wasn't shocked to see that his roommate, ever the efficient one, was already packed. Two big suitcases were sitting patiently by the front of the bed, ready to go, as well as his backpack, stuffed to the brim with textbooks. "Leave it to Brian to want to study on his break," he noted with a soft laugh. As dedicated as he was to his college education, Jim had absolutely no desire to crack open a book until the start of the fall semester. He was looking forward to a long, endless summer without any form of educational value to it.

"I guess it's the waiting game now," he decided with a curt nod. It didn't take him long to move back down the short hallway and into the living room. Switching on the television set, he aimlessly roamed through the channels before finally settling on ESPN and Sports Center. Then he headed into the kitchen and searched through the almost-empty refrigerator and cupboards, rummaging for anything to eat. It didn't take too long. The pickings were slim to none. Jim knew there had been a few more options available when he had left on Friday. Obviously Brian was readying the apartment for his five-week hiatus. There wasn't much food to choose from. An almost-finished loaf of bread, a bit of peanut butter, some leftover containers of very questionable Chinese food that Jim thought could have been from three weeks ago, and an unopened bottle of water. Left with not many options, Jim settled for a peanut butter sandwich and the water. Plopping himself down on the sofa, he ate his snack and became engrossed in the latest happenings in the sports world and waited as patiently as he could for his roommate to arrive.

The sofa may not have been much to look at but it was one of the most comfortable sofas ever created. Cocooned on its soft cushions, Jim leaned his head back and closed his green eyes. The voices on the television set droned on around him, lulling him, and before he knew it, he was dozing off, the after-effects of his early morning drive into the city.

Immediately a small smile settled on his face as he was transported back to the picnic on Sunday, where he was sitting next to Trixie on the dock by the lake, all alone, the others away on their trek to the clubhouse and providing them with a cherished moment of privacy. She was nestled against his side, exactly the way she had been, and was looking up at him, her eyes warm and the brightest blue he could ever remember seeing, and very relaxed. In his mind, Jim gave up the internal struggle that was becoming harder and harder to ignore and leaned forward, his lips meeting hers in the slowest, sweetest kiss possible. He had a moment to imagine what her face would look like before they were lost themselves. It wasn't the first time he had ever dreamed about kissing her but it was the most potent one he could ever remember having, possibly because her high school graduation was right around the corner. It was almost like he could almost taste her; it felt that real.

The metallic sound of keys jingling in the door brought him out of his satisfying dream with an unpleasant jolt. Reluctantly, he shook his head to clear it, not particularly wanting Brian to realize he had been lusting after his sister. Jim sat up from the sofa and stretched his long limbs, needing to get the kinks out, and grudgingly left the dream behind him. At least he had the hope that he would be able to make it a reality, potentially very soon. He looked towards the door and greeted his best friend and roommate. Brian looked the most exhausted he had ever seen him. "Rough exam?" he asked sympathetically. They had both been there before.

Brian closed the door behind him with a kick of his leg. He made sure to flick the locks before coming into the room and flopping down on the recliner with a grateful groan. "I am glad that it is over. Finally, completely, irrevocably over. The whole set of exams this time around were the toughest I can remember having." The dark circles under his eyes plainly told of the stress that had held him within its tight grip during the past week.

"We only have the pleasure of doing it all again next semester," Jim remarked cheerfully, smiling broadly when Brian only groaned again, and knowing that his friend needed some levity to break the tension. "The only thing I can think is that college students must really be gluttons for punishment."

"Pre-med students certainly are, no doubt about that." He couldn't even appreciate the fact that his last exam was over and that he had five weeks to do whatever he wanted, with no responsibilities until his internship started up. He was too tired. "Normally students leave their last exam with huge smiles on their faces, happy to be done with it all, and ready to head for the comforts of their homes. I did not see one person smiling when we left the classroom. Of course, every single one of us stayed to the very end of the exam period. The test was that long. There wasn't one early finisher in our class." Most of the other pre-med students looked like him, only slightly better than hell warmed over. It had been one tough semester. The final exams had all mirrored the semester, in toughness and in complexity. He could only imagine the horrors of the upcoming ones, about seven months away, and gave a small shudder of disgust.

"Cheer up, old man," Jim said with the same brightness that Brian found annoying, exactly as he intended. His exams had been tough but were blissfully out of his mind. "It's all over. It's all done with, until the next set. But don't think about that now. Beautiful, quiet, peaceful Sleepyside is waiting for you. There are a lot of people anxious to see you again."

Brian cracked open an obsidian eye. As tempting as it sounded to get home, he couldn't find the energy to get his large body out of his seat. The chair seemed to have sucked whatever energy he had remaining out of him. Even the thought of going home couldn't motivate him. "Give me a few minutes here, Jim. I can't seem to function right now."

"I saw that you are already packed," Jim continued conversationally. The best way to get Brian motivated to leave was to keep his mind off of his exams. "Have you set it up with our neighbors to keep an eye on the apartment for the next few weeks?"

It took an effort to even nod is head. After all of the complicated medical information he had jammed into it over the past few days, he was impressed he could even move it. "Of course. I'll drop off our spare key on the way out. Sierra and Todd will check our mail and also look in periodically to make sure that everything is fine here."

"That's one worry down." Both had been a little concerned about leaving the small apartment deserted for five weeks, even though their apartment building had round-the-clock security, a must-have for their parents to even consider letting them live on their own. "Now, what do you feel like doing? I'd offer you something to eat but I think I finished the last of the food available here."

"The peanut butter," Brian mumbled, kissing the thought of the sandwich goodbye. "I haven't gone shopping since last week. Instead, I've spent the past few days making sure there wasn't anything left to spoil."

"You did a good job, too," Jim laughed easily. "Although I'm not sure why you want to keep the Chinese food. I have a vague memory of ordering it, about three weeks ago. Is it a science experiment for one of your classes, maybe?"

Brian managed a small chuckle. Some of the paleness left his face. Jim took it as a good sign that his friend was slowly returning to the land of the living. "No. I forgot to throw it out." He glanced at his friend. "While I try to muster some energy to move, why don't you tell me about everyone at home? I haven't called anyone since exams started so I'm out of the loop." That was a very natural feeling for him. He often felt as if he was one of the last to know what was going on.

Jim took a sip of the water and leaned forward, his hands on his knees. "Where to start? Well, we had a picnic on Sunday at the lake, to celebrate the fact that so many of us were finally home. We have a dinner scheduled for next Sunday for all the Bob-Whites, in case you're interested."

He was, almost desperately so. He couldn't wait to see all of their friends. "That sounds wonderful. A true Bob-White get-together at its finest."

"We're supposed to hold Sundays open this summer so that we are sure to spend time together." Then Jim continued with news of their friends. "Di is excited about graduating in a few weeks and moving on from high school. While still excited, Honey seems to be a little more nostalgic about the upcoming event." He spoke his sister's name casually, looked at Brian closely, but couldn't gauge anything from his friend's reaction. Brian was simply too mentally exhausted to give anything away. "The girls are going to work at the Country Club this summer. Di's working as a receptionist there while Honey and Trix are going to be lifeguards. All three of them are taking a shift at the reception area to help out this week, though. One of the regular employees has gone on vacation. Honey worked last night. I think Trixie is tonight."

Brian had at least known that the girls were working at the club. He hadn't realized they would be starting so soon. He thought about his brother, who he hadn't heard anything from in almost two weeks. "How about Mart? Has he been behaving?"

Jim gave a curt shake to his head, his green eyes twinkling. "Nope, of course not. Mart's never one to let grass grow under his feet. He's already been up to his old tricks, as usual."

"What did he do to Trixie this time?" Brian arched an eyebrow, guessing Mart's favorite target correctly.

"Played with her cell phone," Jim answered back but didn't go into any of the details. He figured he would let Trixie clue her brother in if she wanted to. "Ticked her off a bit but she managed to pull herself together without blowing up. As usual, Mart was remorseful, once she settled down. I have a feeling Dan will help her settle the score if she cares to do so."

Brian gave a grimace. It seemed like Mart and Trixie would always be at odds with each other. Of course, his family wouldn't be the same if they weren't snapping at each other. "Are Mart and Dan working together again this summer?" His most recent talks with Mart had been about college and exams, not summer plans. He hated the fact that he was so out of tune with his friends and family.

Jim gave a nod. "Dan wasn't too happy that Mart scheduled their first job for yesterday morning. He's just come back from Saratoga, where he was hanging out with Regan. And I highly recommend never, ever, playing any type of card game against our man Dan. If you are insane enough to attempt it, don't let any money exchange hands. You'll be broke before the game's half over." He laughed at the memory, even though he had come out looking like a fool. He could appreciate the humor.

Man, he missed Sleepyside. It hurt a bit to know that they were all having fun together while he had been stuck here, with his nose stuck in his medical books. "What did you play? Surely not poker. You must know better than that, Jim. Dan is a master at that game."

"No, not poker. We were caught in the stables during a thunderstorm after our picnic and Dan convinced me the time would go by much faster if we played blackjack." Jim rolled his eyes. "Stupid, stupid me. He played me like a fiddle."

This time Brian's laugh was deep and normal. He could almost feel some of the tension ebbing away. "I'll make a note of it. Dan's deadly at blackjack."

Jim turned off the television set. "Ready to go yet?"

"You've managed to share a little bit about everyone," Brian noted quietly but with a crafty look to his dark eyes. "But all you've told me about my sister is that Mart managed to tease her. What's going on with Trix?"

Jim shifted, avoided the knowing look on Brian's face, and immediately started to ramble on. "Trixie's good. We went for a ride together on Saturday morning. Honey canceled on her so I filled in." He flushed slightly at the memory of her exuberant welcome in the stables. Catching her by surprise was obviously a good thing. He then cleared his throat. "We rode to the bluffs and talked about our summer plans. She had a spill off of Susie when we were getting ready to come back but recovered nicely. You know Trixie. She doesn't let anything keep her down for long. Then she went with the other girls for their induction meeting at the Country Club. Somehow, she managed not to have any homework over the weekend. Mart got her good at the picnic, but I already told you about that. I stayed behind to talk to her while the others went for a walk." Hating the fact that he was blathering like the fool he had just claimed to be, he finished with, "She also can't wait to graduate, much like Di."

He imagined that Jim couldn't wait for her to graduate, either. It couldn't have been more apparent to him. Brian settled back, dark eyes dancing with amusement, and prepared to tease his friend. "You gave me a short synopsis on each of the Bob-Whites. I am now caught up on all our friends." Failing to keep his lips from grinning, Brian pointed out the most noticeable fact. "But you must realize that you told me more about Trixie than any of the others, right? It seems to me like you could write a thesis on her daily activities. You probably know more about her than Honey or my parents." That told him more about Jim than anything else. He tapped his chin and pretended to ponder, "Hmm. I wonder why."

Jim coughed and stood up, hating the red flush on his cheeks. Ignoring the pointed reference, he motioned to the hall and made a hasty, if not overly graceful, exit. "I'll start getting your stuff."

Brian watched his friend go, enjoying the feel of the large smile spreading across his lips. It had been too long since he had simply found pleasure in the smaller things in life. He would have to keep a close eye on his friend and sister over the next few weeks, although he had a pretty good idea where the two of them would be heading. He wondered if Trixie had any clue and thought that she probably did not. For someone who was so gifted at putting together complex puzzles that left everyone else stupefied, she was not so skilled at reading the emotions of others around her.

Jim came back down the hallway, putting down one of the suitcases with a loud thump and an exaggerated groan. "What did you pack in this, Brian? Rocks?" he complained.

Brian stayed in his seat. He figured he had earned the right to relax a bit while Jim did all the work. "Thanks for getting it, Jim." Arching a dark eyebrow he motioned back down the hallway, "I believe there were two suitcases, plus a backpack."

Jim threw up his hands. "Keep your carcass over there, then. I'll be more than happy to get the rest of your things for you." He grumbled down the hallway, secretly glad that Brian was turning back into himself. He had hardly recognized the grim-faced pre-med student who had showed up at the door less than an hour earlier.

Brian stayed in his comfortable seat as Jim made two more trips. His suitcases and backpack were by the door, waiting to be loaded up in Jim's car. "Are you ready to go, Jim?"

Jim made a big show of holding onto his back, as if the stress of carrying the three bags had taken a huge toll on him. "In a minute, in a minute. I take that back about the rocks in your suitcase. You must have a set of boulders in that damn backpack of yours. Will you really study over your break?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Brian gave a small sigh. "I can't lose the information I've learned to the dreaded summer slide." He had a little more pressure on him than to simply perform well. His scholarship was a full ride, providing he maintained a 3.85 grade point average. Any dip in his grades, no matter how slight, and his scholarship was toast.

Jim sat down on the sofa, having come to the conclusion that turnabout was fair play on his third trip from Brian's room. "So, you noticed I hadn't said too much about Trixie before. Did you catch the fact that I didn't talk all that much about Honey, either?"

Instantly alert, Brian narrowed his eyes and gave Jim a hard stare. "Can't say that I did," he lied but not particularly well.

Jim's grin was cunning. "I find that hard to believe, Dr. Belden. Would you like to know more about my sister?"

"No," Brian replied with a quick shake of his head. Suddenly feeling the urge to get moving, he stood up from the recliner and stretched. "Would you look at the time? We should probably get on the road. It's after twelve. I'm hungry, too. We both missed lunch, unless you want to count that delicious peanut butter sandwich of yours."

Jim had trouble hiding his laughter. It was an incongruous sight. The normally calm, cool and collected Brian Belden in a whirlwind attempt to change the topic of the conversation. Taking pity on him, he let it drop. There would be other chances to find out where his friend stood. "We could grab something to eat at the deli on the corner and then be on our way back home in no time at all."

"I like the sound of that." Brian shouldered his backpack and grabbed a suitcase. "I can't wait to get home. I've missed it more than I ever thought possible."

"I know the feeling." Jim walked into the kitchen. Glancing back at his friend, he volunteered, "I'll take care of the rest of the food and the garbage, then we can get on our way."

Brian pulled out his cell phone and turned it on as Jim busied himself with the chores. "I've got a message," he said under his breath and checked it. He listened to Trixie and smothered a chuckle. She sounded exactly the same, only a little more energetic than normal. "Trix says hi," he mentioned as Jim came back with the half-full garbage bag. At his friend's look of surprise, he explained, "She must have called during her lunch. She also wishes us a safe trip home."

Jim grabbed the remaining suitcase and walked to the front door. Opening the door, he glanced at his friend. "Let's get going, Brian."

Brian stood for a moment in the living room, looking over his recent home away from home. It was a nice place but he was craving the cozy comfort of Crabapple Farm. There was simply no substitute for his home. He had a fleeting regret for agreeing to take the summer internship. Maybe he needed more fortifying time at home instead. There wasn't much he could do about it now. Taking a deep breath, he decided to make the best he could of the time he had at home. "Yeah. Let's go, Jim." They headed out the door together.


	16. Chapter 15

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Fifteen

"No one's home yet," Honey announced, disappointed. Her pretty face fell. She brought the station wagon to a stop and looked at the driveway. The only car they could see was Mart's, which didn't mean he was home. He and Dan generally worked until the last of the available daylight in order to get as much work in as possible so both girls didn't expect him to be back anytime soon.

Trixie studied her home closely but couldn't see signs of anyone. The old farmhouse was quiet. "It looks like you're right, Honey." She knew that if Brian had been home he would have come right out on the porch the second he had heard the car on the driveway. Turning to Honey, she invited her impulsively, "Do you want to stay for a bit? I doubt it will be too much longer before Brian gets home. I know he would love to see you, plus Jim would be with him. We could have our own small Bob-White reunion." She didn't mention the reason why she really wanted Honey to stay. She didn't want to be home all alone.

"I'd love to but I can't," Honey responded too quickly. As much as she would love to see Brian, she knew it would be better for her equilibrium if she had more of a chance to mentally prepare herself ahead of time. She wasn't ready yet. Coming up with the only excuse she could think of, she blurted out quickly, "I still have to work on that paper. It's due this Friday. I'm close to being finished with it but I'm a little behind on it because of my shift last night. Most of the other kids in my class are already finished with it."

"All right." Trixie opened the car door and stepped outside. She paused and looked warily at her home, remembering her phone call during lunch. The reluctance she felt to enter her own home astonished her and she had to fight back a shiver.

"Do you need the station wagon to get to the Country Club? I'll be glad to walk home, if you do," Honey questioned as she put the car into reverse, unaware of the tumultuous feelings of her friend.

Trixie did her best to shake away her trepidation. Never one to ask for help, she certainly wasn't going to insist that Honey stay with her simply because of an eerie phone call. "I don't think so. I'm sure I'll be able to borrow Moms' car or Mart's, if worse comes to worse. He'll probably make a big show out of lending it to me. We know how overly dramatic he can be at times." She could see the image in her mind perfectly and forced out a small giggle. "I'll give you a call if I would need it, okay?" The smile fell off her face as Honey drove away. She hated to admit it but she didn't want to be alone in her own house, which was asinine but there it was. She walked on slow feet, taking an exceedingly long time to open the gate to the front lawn and traveled down the stone path and up to the front porch.

The front door wasn't locked. "Nothing unusual in that," Trixie whispered softly. It was rarely ever locked. She doubted if any of her siblings even had a key to the house. She knew she didn't. The only security system that they had was one large dog that could be ferocious if the moment called for it. She entered the house and looked around the large, inviting living room. Nothing was out of place. It looked exactly as it should have. For once, she hung her backpack up in its rightful place, took out her lunch bag, and headed into the kitchen.

Reddy lifted his head from his doggy cushion in the corner and wagged his tail softly. Trixie went right to him and gave him a quick pat. Then she looked at the counter. The only unusual item in the kitchen was a letter waiting for her there. Trixie scanned it quickly. It was from her mom, telling her that she had taken Bobby to his dentist appointment and wouldn't be back until later. Cold chicken was available if she wanted to eat dinner before going into work. Only one chore needed to be done before she went into work: get the mail. Her mother also mentioned that she had finished the laundry and had put her work clothes for the evening upstairs but she was on her own when it came to the ironing. Trixie groaned at the unpleasant thought. She absolutely hated ironing. "I'll get the mail first," she proclaimed with conviction.

She threw out the remains of her uneaten lunch and walked back through the living room, stopping at the front door to stare out into the bright spring day. She wasn't looking forward to walking the short distance down to the mailbox, especially with no one else home. Thinking it would be a good idea to have her cell phone with her; Trixie grabbed it from her backpack, as well as the bright blue leash that was hanging from her hook. She whistled for Reddy and knelt down when he came right to her from the kitchen, his wide mouth pulled back into a foolish but happy dog grin. Smiling at him, she snapped the leash to his collar. "You can keep me company, Reddy," she informed the dog, who looked slightly outraged at having to put with a leash. Then, resigned, with the attitude known to all dogs who must submit to the leash, no matter how good they were, he stood up and followed her out of the house, his tail wagging happily from side to side.

Trixie felt more confident, more like herself, having the loyal if not exactly obedient animal traveling with her. She closed the door behind her and started down the driveway, Reddy matching her step for step. "Good boy," she murmured to him in appreciation. He was very happy to be outside and enjoyed the little walk immensely. The more time she spent outside, the more her worries momentarily faded away, and the happier she began to feel. She hated feeling so pessimistic and worried. It went against her very nature. She knew that if there was any sign of trouble, Reddy would alert her, and she felt more relaxed. He may not be the most well-trained dog in the world but he was fiercely loyal and would protect his loved ones against any potential threat.

The two stopped at the end of the driveway. Reddy sniffed the air as she reached into the mailbox and pulled out the small mound of mail. Leafing through it quickly, whistling under her breath, she noticed that it was mainly bills for her parents, plus a few fliers and credit card offers that would be shredded by her father. All normal, everyday items. Nothing unusual. She breathed a silent sigh of relief. With the way her thoughts had headed during the rest of her school day, she wouldn't have been astonished to find something more sinister in the mail. She had to give a dry chuckle at her imagination. "Let it go," she ordered herself harshly. "You're going to drive yourself crazy if you continue down this path."

She held onto the mail, feeling more carefree on the way back up the driveway than she had all day and actually found herself enjoying the solitude of her walk with Reddy. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining brightly, warming her with its presence, and promising more perfect spring days to come. Nothing unexpected had occurred, other than that irritating phone call at lunch. She began to feel safe again. "I'm not going to dwell on it now," she told herself, with Reddy nodding his large head in sage agreement as if he knew what she was talking about. "It's frustrating but all I can do is wait and see if there is anything else to it." She had no clues and absolutely no direction to go, as well as no conclusive facts to her suspicions. It was either embrace the necessity of her inactivity or go insane with worry. She really didn't want to go insane.

They made it back to the house safely and without incident. A swift look at the clock on the mantel of the fireplace told her she had exactly one hour before she had to make it into work. It wouldn't look good if she was late on her first shift. She let Reddy loose from the confines of his leash. He immediately put his big front paws on her shoulders and gave her a big lick of gratitude that had her laughing in delight. Then he padded back to his favorite spot in the kitchen, where she was sure he was going to nap away the exertion of their little walk. Grinning at his canine predictability, she threw the mail down on the coffee table and took the steps up to her room, feeling lighter than she had all day.

She was met with a very pleasant surprise. Her work clothes were laid out invitingly on her bed, freshly washed and even ironed, and waiting expectantly for her. "Way to go, Moms. You were able to find the time to iron for me," she remarked, breathing a huge sigh of relief. She hadn't been looking forward to the ironing. If there was one chore she despised more than dusting, it was ironing. She was notoriously bad at it, always managed to iron in more wrinkles than the few she somehow to take out, which was why her mother never requested her to do that particular chore too often. It only made for work for her mother. She took off her school clothes and quickly slipped into her work ones, khaki pants and a dark blue polo shirt with the Sleepyside Country Club's insignia proudly embroidered on the upper left side in gold. Her name was discretely displayed on the other side. Then she stepped into her comfortable loafers, grabbed the matching windbreaker the Club so nicely supplied to its employees for the cooler spring and summer days and evenings, and headed downstairs, intent on eating the chicken for an early dinner.

The unmistakable sound of tires on gravel was music to her ears. Pushing aside the white curtains framing the large picture window in the living room, she grinned at the sight of Jim's dark green Pathfinder making its way up the driveway. She let out a delighted whoop. "Brian!" Then she dashed out to the front porch to wait.

"What took you so long?" she called out the second the vehicle pulled to a stop.

"Traffic!" Jim yelled back through the window as he opened the door and came around to the back to help unload Brian's things. He stretched his body, grateful to be out of the confines of the car. The ride had been much longer than he had anticipated. "We should have beaten you home from school but there was an accident on the interstate. We didn't move for forty-five minutes straight. When we finally started moving again, it was at a crawl. That lasted for another twenty minutes. I bet a lame turtle would have gone faster than us."

Brian forgot his stuff. His long legs ate up the ground until he met his sister in the middle of the front lawn and was engulfing her in a huge hug. "I couldn't wait to get home, Trix. The drive took forever."

She released an excited giggle and hugged him back. "All that really matters is that you are here now." She saw the exhaustion on his face and frowned but didn't bring it up. It was clear that the recent semester had taken a hard toll on him. Realizing that he didn't need her to point it out, she threaded her arm through his. Arm in arm, they headed back to the car where Jim had placed the suitcases and the backpack.

Jim had seen the reunion. Out of all the greetings he had witnessed Trixie give the returning Bob-Whites; he believed she had gifted him with the best one. That gave him a strong shot of confidence. "I wouldn't recommend picking that thing up," he informed her mildly when she bent down to pick up the backpack. He hooked a finger towards the culprit. "Your brother here has brought home every textbook he has ever bought at NYU. That thing weighs more than my car. I have the aching back to prove it."

Trixie paused in her movement, considered the other two suitcases which looked equally stuffed and heavy, and came to the swift conclusion that it would be best to leave the men to do the work. "Thanks for the tip," she responded, a twinkle in her blue eyes, and gave Jim a wide smile that had him catching his breath.

Brian rolled his eyes at the way the two of them continued to stare at each other, as if he wasn't even there, and thought that they should stop dancing in circles around each other and get on with it, already. He hoped there would be some progress between the two before he headed back to the City. Shaking his head at the obtuseness of his sister and the honorableness of his friend, he grabbed the backpack and one of the suitcases. He figured Jim could handle the other one. "Don't worry, sister dear. I can take care of it myself," he finally said, breaking the silence.

His words brought her out of her trance. Her giggle was a mixture of nerves and embarrassment, as was the slight pink tinting her cheeks. She rocked back on her heels, her arms clasped across her chest, and focused on Brian. "Go for it, big brother. I'm more than content to sit back and watch."

Jim grabbed the other bag, enjoying the easy banter between the two siblings. Trixie held open the gate to the front lawn for them, her contribution to helping her brother move back in, and then they walked up the worn path to the house as a unit. "Anyone else home?" he asked, glancing around the yard. It was oddly quiet. Normally Crabapple Farm sounded as if there was a herd of wild animals rampaging through it.

She sent her curls flying as she shook her head. "No. Mart and Dad are still at work. Moms left me a note saying that she had to pick Bobby up at school and take him to the dentist. I imagine she's going to drop him off at practice afterwards. There is cold chicken for dinner if anyone is hungry." She beamed up at Brian. It was difficult to find privacy in their family. "You're never going to believe this but you're actually going to get the house all to yourself. I have to leave in about half an hour for work. I doubt if anyone will be home for awhile."

Having the house to himself was practically unheard of in the Belden household. There was always someone to trip over. "That's…unusual," he remarked but pursed his lips together in anticipation, looking forward to some time alone. He might actually be able to get a much-needed nap before the rest of the inhabitants descended upon him.

"Tell me about it," Trixie responded. "I couldn't believe no one was here other than Reddy when Honey dropped me off after school."

"You can carry this monster up to your room." Jim put the suitcase inside the front door and then turned to Trixie. "Did you mention chicken?" he questioned with a fond look towards the kitchen. The sub from the deli had been swallowed down in large bites at the beginning of the drive back to Sleepyside. That had been a long time ago. He could use something to eat. Mrs. Belden's chicken, cold or not, sounded absolutely delicious.

Trixie led the way into the kitchen and pulled out the containers from the well-stocked refrigerator. "It looks like we have a tossed salad and homemade macaroni and cheese as sides." She scooped out three servings of the macaroni and cheese and warmed them in the microwave as Brian found paper plates for their makeshift meal in one of the cupboards. Jim got out glasses for their drinks.

The three sat down at the table. Trixie made sure to keep an eye on the clock and not get too lost in the comfort of the meal with her brother and one of her best friends. She would need about ten minutes to get to the Country Club before her shift started. Then her eyes widened in shock and she bit back a small groan. She caught Mart's keys dangling from the hooks near the back door. She would most likely have to use his car, without his permission. He would really like that, she thought with a sarcastic sigh.

Jim caught her preoccupation and guessed the reason why. "I'll be glad to give you a ride into work," he mentioned idly between bites of the chicken.

She gifted him with a grateful smile. There were times when he could read her mind, almost as closely as Honey could. "Thanks, Jim. I wasn't looking forward to borrowing Mart's car without asking." She kicked Brian's leg under the table. "And I know better than to even attempt to drive your jalopy. It's out in the barn, right where you left it. Dad takes it out for a spin every now and then but he mentioned the other night that it needs some work on it. I'm not sure what's wrong but it made a few loud noises when Dad started it up and then some smoke started to come out of it."

"I'm sure it's only a minor problem," Brian said in defense of his car that was temperamental to all others but him. He was looking forward to working on it tomorrow. He hoped he would have the problem fixed before too long. "You've never been particularly successful in driving it. It takes a calm hand. We all know that calmness has never been your strong point, Trix."

"I can't argue with that." She hastily cleaned up her spot and practically flew out of the room. She wanted to at least drag a comb through her hair before going to work. "I'll be back in a minute, Jim!" she yelled back.

Brian finished chewing a piece of chicken and carefully placed his fork down on his napkin. Sliding his gaze towards his friend, he mentioned casually, his dark eyes gleaming knowingly, "You know I could have easily driven her in Mart's car, right? Mart wouldn't have been upset with me for taking it. Trixie, well, that's another story. I'm sure he would have given us a fine display of temper over that."

A sly smile was his only answer while Jim chose not to add anything else to the conversation. He wasn't one to miss an opportunity if it presented himself. After taking care of his table spot, he told his friend, "Enjoy your first night home, Brian. I'll see you later." Then he went to wait at the bottom of the steps, waiting on Trixie.

She clambered down the stairs, always in a hurry, despite her best intentions to get ready on time. It seemed that tardiness and trouble were often tied for her nickname. "I had to get my cell phone," she gasped as she came down stairs, out of breath, and laughing at her own foolishness. "I left it up there after I changed from school. I don't want to test Moms' and Dad's promise, should they find me without it. It would be awful to be grounded when everyone has finally returned home." She brushed aside a curl and came to a sudden stop at the last step.

They were nearly eye-to-eye. It would be terrible, for him as well. "None of us would want that," he assured her quietly and moved out of her way. He held open the door and motioned for her to go first. "Let's get you to work, Trix. I'd hate to make you late."

She went past him, giving him another smile over her shoulder. "Thanks for giving me a ride, Jim. I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I guess I should have taken Honey up on her offer of the station wagon when she dropped me off. I never imagined that there wouldn't be anyone home. It's such an odd thing to have happen in this family."

"You can always count on me, Trix." Although he spoke lightly, he wondered if she caught the underlying meaning.

"Believe me, I know that." She didn't look into it, although her heart missed a sudden beat at the lopsided grin he threw her way. They made it to his car. She used the running board to step up into the passenger side door and settled herself onto the plush seat that her brother had recently vacated. "You know, you could start a business yourself. I think it would be really successful. Brian and I have already given you plenty of business today. Somehow you've managed to spend a good part of the day driving us around."

He fastened his seatbelt and started the vehicle, chuckling at her suggestion. "It's my pleasure." Carefully backing up, he drove down the driveway. Thinking it was an absurd question, he asked it anyway. "Did you have a good day at school?"

The pause was brief, would have been missed by almost everyone else but him. "All right, I guess, as far as school days go. Nothing interesting happened." Her eyes slid away from his, looked out towards the side of the road, telling him more plainly than the pause that something had happened.

A few lines settled on his forehead before he smoothed them out. He felt that shiver he sometimes got when he knew something was going on but she wasn't sharing it with him. "Are you certain about that?" he inquired with deceptive ease, keeping both eyes on the road but watching her reaction closely out of the corner of his eye.

She sighed, having no choice but to give it up. Of course he would realize something was bothering her. He always did. "It's nothing big, Jim. I got an odd phone call at lunch, that's all." She shrugged her shoulder, hoping he wouldn't ask for more, but didn't elaborate.

"A hang-up, huh?" Jim guessed correctly.

She nodded but didn't tell him about the weird laugh on the other end or the other incidences that had occurred. She didn't want to worry him unnecessarily and still wasn't sure what, exactly, was going on. It could still be nothing but, with the way her luck ran, she wouldn't bet on it. "I always hate getting hang-ups," she tentatively shared, not exactly lying but not coming completely clean, either.

He wondered if that was all there was to it and felt his Trixie radar turn itself on. It had been awhile since he had used his inner senses that were geared completely towards her. He could tell that she wasn't ready to share everything with him yet. Knowing from past experiences that it was best not to push her or lecture her, he decided to show her that he was there for her, should she need him. Pulling into the parking lot of the Sleepyside Country Club, he let the engine idle and took her hands, noticing with surprise that they were cold, an odd feeling on such a warm spring day. "You'll let me know if there is anything else going on, right?"

She promised him quickly, "Of course." Then she nearly succeeded in laughing it off but she still couldn't fool him, not completely. She had that odd glint to her eyes. "You've known me long enough, Jim, to know that I can sometimes make mountains out of molehills."

He had also known her long enough to trust her instincts but, since she obviously wanted to be let off the hook, he let her go. One long intense stare before he insisted, "Keep me in the loop, all right?"

"No problem," she promised him truthfully. She had also learned from past mistakes. Should she need help, he would be one of the first she would turn to…right after Honey, of course. She would never forget her allegiance to her partner and best friend. She opened the door and stepped down. "But I really don't think there's a loop that anyone needs to be kept in. I really believe that there isn't anything wrong. I really only need a little more time to think on it before I know for certain."

He couldn't tell who she was trying to convince. And that was two too many 'really's' for his taste. Suddenly his break didn't promise to be as restful as he had expected it to be. He forced a smile to his face but couldn't hide the worry in his eyes. "Call me if you need anything."

"You know I will." Trixie kept her hand on the door and hesitated before saying, "Thanks again for the ride."

"Anytime." He watched her closer but didn't see anything within her body motions to alarm him. She could handle just about anything. He had witnessed her in action enough times to know that was the truth. The knowledge didn't do much to appease him, though. "Do you need me to pick you up?" he inquired, more than willing to spend time with her, as well as making sure that she returned home safely.

"I don't think so." She didn't want to have to make him go out of his way again. "I'll call home in a little bit. There should be enough licensed drivers there. I'm sure someone will be able to come and give me a ride home." Looking back at the impressive building, she bit back a sigh and reluctantly decided that she had to say goodbye. "I'll see you later, Jim. Thanks again."

He sent her a small wave. "Good luck, Trixie." He didn't know if he was wishing her good luck on her first shift or on settling the worries circulating through her brain. He waited until she walked through the front of the building before throwing the vehicle into reverse and backing up. That sudden stabbing feeling she sometimes gave him was back in his stomach, feeling more like an army of angry wasps instead of set of charming butterflies. Dan was right. She would put him through hell but it would be worth it. He bit his bottom lip and gave up a silent prayer that there wasn't anything seriously wrong. Time would tell, as it always did with Trixie.


	17. Chapter 16

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Sixteen

The excitement of her first official shift faded swiftly. Just as Honey and her supervisor had warned her, the evening shift was dull and very quiet. Other than a few phone calls and a few members meandering by the receptionist area every so often on their way to the gym or the bar/restaurant, the evening was progressing slowly, peacefully and verging on boring. There wasn't anything she could do but sit behind the desk. It was strictly forbidden for employees to do anything else on their shift but their work. They were required to be ready to assist guests at a moment's notice. No reading, no eating, no drinking any type of beverage, and definitely no cell phone usage. Trixie looked at her phone, which was lying on top of the desk, turned off. Luckily her parents knew the rule and wouldn't be attempting to get in touch with her that way, should the need arise.

A bright bleep sounded out, once, twice, three times. Grateful to have something to do, Trixie reached over and picked up the phone, glad that she had mastered the complicated phone system without losing a call yet. She answered it in the overly bright voice required by any trained receptionist, "Sleepyside Country Club. How can I help you?"

"And to whom am I speaking?" asked a deep voice that she recognized immediately. "Isn't it policy for you to offer your name when speaking to a guest on the phone?"

"Hello, Mart," she greeted her brother, rolling her eyes at his ridiculousness. "You're exactly who I wanted to talk to on my first shift here." She released a long-suffering sigh that only siblings could fully understand before asking, "What can I do for you?"

Mart gave a short bark of laughter, delighted that she had already realized who it was. He thought he would have been able to fool her a little longer with his disguised voice. "Figured it out it was me, did you?"

"You can't hide pure annoyance," Trixie joked, her eyes twinkling. She leaned back in the chair and twirled the phone line around her fingers. If nothing else, he was helping her pass the time. She was more than willing to give him that much.

"You are way too funny," he shot back before sharing one of his long-winded and hard to understand monologues. "While we were partaking in our last meal of the day, our eldest sibling, who has so recently returned to our humble abode, mentioned that someone in our family did not happen to have any transportation. After much debate amongst the Beldens present in the household, it has been determined that I shall be the auspicious being to bestow it upon the needy one."

It took her a minute to translate what he was saying but she finally did. "You can pick me up at nine." She felt her lips tug into a cunning smile as she put in knowingly, "But you may want to get here a little early. Di called a few minutes ago. She will be bringing in her paperwork around eight. She has to drop it off tonight so that payroll can get her information on file before she starts her first shift tomorrow night. She also has to pick up her uniform."

She succeeded in the impossible. She made Mart speechless. "Ohh…okay," he mumbled out, stunned but excited by his sudden good fortune. Picking up his sister was no longer the chore it had seemed to be only a few seconds ago. He found himself anxiously looking at the clock, mentally calculated the time, and saw that he had more than enough time for a shower. He ended the conversation quickly, "I will see you a little earlier, then, Trix. 'Bye."

She giggled lowly as Mart hung up the phone. Sometimes he could be so predictable. She hoped Di would take advantage of the opportunity to see if Mart wanted to go to the prom with her. She had never discussed it with Di but, as the days passed, it was getting more and more noticeable that Di was getting anxious. "I have a feeling they'll have it all settled before we go home."

Then she looked at the computer screen in front of her and sighed. Her shift was teaching her quite a lesson in boredom and making her more than grateful that she would not be working as a receptionist during the summer months. Other than a few phone calls, and two of those calls didn't count since they were from Di and Mart, she hadn't needed to do anything else but sit there. She felt more like an ornament than anything else. The inactivity was starting to get to her. "Looks like a tedious night," she grumbled to herself and stretched her arms above her head.

There was a pad of paper lying on the clean desk. Wanting to at least look busy and needing to do something to keep her mind occupied, she picked up the paper and started doodling on it. Nothing much at first, but then her mind started to wander to the incidents that were continuing to plague her, and she found herself creating yet another chart, much like the one she had made during lunch. At least it kept her busy, she thought as she jotted down the information she now knew by heart. Frowning at it, she came up with the same conclusion, which was no conclusion at all. There wasn't any way to be completely certain that something was going on. And it disturbed her. She wanted to _know_ if she should be concerned or not.

Putting her chin in her hands, she stared off into space and recalled her conversation with Jim. She couldn't share anything with him, not yet. There was nothing but a long string of events that either had the potential to be meaningless or menacing. She had despised the worried look he had given her before she had left his car but had appreciated the fact that he hadn't pushed her into sharing confidences she wasn't ready to share. "Maybe there won't be anything to share," she whispered, a littler forlornly. "I can always hope." Staring at her second chart of the day, she folded up the paper and put it into her back pocket. Then she looked at the phone and willed it to ring. At least then she would be able to actually do something.

A while later, Di strode through the wide front door and up to the receptionist desk, an attractive smile on her mouth, and hid a giggle at the far-away expression on her friend's face as she gave a hard stare at something on the desk. Trixie looked to be about one hundred miles away from her actual spot, certainly not giving the job the attention it deserved, like a model receptionist should. She plopped her paperwork down on the top of the desk, "Good evening, Miss," she stated loudly and clearly, smothering back her laugh as her friend jumped in her seat and gawked at her. She made a show of leaning over and reading the name embroidered on the shirt. "It is Trixie, isn't it?"

Trixie shook her head to clear away her thoughts, able to appreciate Di's brand of humor. "Hello, Diana," she responded formally, thinking that her friend was as bad as Mart. "And what can I do for you this evening?"

Di held up her paperwork proudly. "I'm finally finished with it, Trix! It took me forever to complete it. Both my parents agreed that I should do it myself, since it is my job, after all. My hand aches from all the writing." She shook her hand to emphasize her point.

"Believe me, I know," Trixie sympathized. Her parents had the same belief. Following the directions her supervisor had left should anyone bring in their paperwork, she unlocked a drawer, slid the paperwork into it and closed it with a smart snap. "I'll leave a note that your stuff is here. That way they will be able to get it tomorrow." She locked the drawer back up and put the keys back on the desk.

"I'm also looking forward to getting my snazzy clothes." She pointed to her friend and ordered her, "Stand up, Trix. Let's see what you look like."

Trixie stood up and did a small circle to model the clothes for Di, who applauded her efforts. She finished with a little bow. "I liked not having to pick out clothes. It was very nice not having to decide what I was going to wear tonight."

"Well, I only hope blue looks as good on me as it does on you!" Di eyed her appreciatively and then smoothed back her dark hair.

Trixie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Barely. Everything looked good on Di. She found the key to the office and handed the set to Di. "This is the key that you want. You'll want to get your clothes, I'm sure. Everything that you need is back in the office."

"Thanks, Trixie. You're the best." Di took the keys and moved off towards their supervisor's office, eager to find her clothes for her summer job, humming under her breath.

At that moment, Mart came through the door. He stopped in the doorway and gazed around the large room, always a little in awe of it. It was a very ornate room, making no qualms about its prestige. Expensive paintings hung on the wall while sculptures and vases were displayed discretely throughout the room. A beautiful and large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, the focal point of the room. Then he saw his sister behind the desk and he strolled over to her, forgetting the opulence of his surroundings. "Hello, Beatrix," he greeted her.

She ignored his use of her hated first name. A glance at the clock told her it was just eight o'clock. He was a whole hour early to pick her up. He certainly wasn't there that early to make sure I have a ride home, she thought slyly. He must be impatient to see Di. Pinching back a grin, she decided to have some fun with him. "Di's already been and gone," she said to her brother with a low sigh, working hard to keep the merriment out of her expression. "You just missed her, Mart."

Mart's face fell. "You've got to be kidding," he exclaimed, disappointed, and looked up at the ceiling.

She couldn't keep up the façade and let out a giggle. It was extremely enjoyable teasing her brother, for once. She so rarely came out ahead in their verbal skirmishes. "I am. Kidding, that is." She hooked a thumb towards the hallway behind her. "She arrived a few minutes ago. She went back to the office to get her work clothes."

Ready to verbally assault her, he glared at Trixie but it fell off his handsome face the second he heard Di coming back down the hallway. He looked towards her and felt a case of nerves hit him hard. How on earth could he explain why he was here? he wondered frantically, searching for any possible reason but only coming up with the fact that he could possibly have messed up the time to come and get Trixie. Flimsy, but he hoped it would work, should Di ask. He didn't want her to think that he was panting after her.

Di had her face down, two plastic bags in her hands, and didn't look up. She followed the hallway to the desk, the keys jingling together in a music all their own. She had already slipped her new windbreaker on. "Thanks again, Trixie," she said as she got closer, put the bags on top of the desk and held the keys out to her.

"No problem." Trixie took the keys back and waited expectantly. She saw the exact second Di realized her brother was standing there. The normally cool, calm and collected Di turned three shades of red and stared at him, her mouth agape and her violet eyes the widest they could possibly get. Trixie had to turn her face away so that the two wouldn't see her laughing in her sleeve.

The blush must have been catching. Mart's cheeks flushed as well. "Hi, Di," he greeted her inanely after a moment of awkward silence. His sister's smirk didn't do much to alleviate his sudden nervousness. He barely resisted the urge to shuffle his feet and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Mart!" she squeaked out, throwing an annoyed glance towards Trixie. She would have preferred to have been forewarned that he could potentially have shown up. The look in her narrowed eyes promised retribution of an equal or greater value, should the opportunity present itself.

Trixie was enjoying their discomfort immensely. When neither seemed to know what to say or do next, only continued to stare at each other, she suggested calmly, "Would either of you mind going to the vending machine for me? I can't leave my post." She reached into her pocket, came out with a crumpled five dollar bill, and held it out to them. "Feel free to get a drink for yourself."

Mart took the offered money, shooting daggers at her. It was easy for him to see that she was beyond amused. He didn't like anyone to laugh at him. "Fine, Trixie. I'll be glad to get you a drink." He turned to Di and motioned with his hand. "Let's go, Di. You can show me where the vending machines are. I don't know the inner workings of this place as well as you two do."

Her embarrassment faded, as did her annoyance. She knew what Trixie was doing. Gratefully, she threw a last glance back at her friend and mouthed the words, 'thank you', to her and then fell into an easy step with Mart. She knew the Club had a strict policy about employees not eating or drinking when on duty. It was clear that Trixie had maneuvered them into some free time together. Maybe it would be a good time to ask him to the prom, she mused silently to herself, and wondered how on earth she could bring it up. She looked at him under the veil of her thick lashes and willed herself to find the courage to do that. There were times when she wished that she had the courage that Trixie possessed in spades.

"Do you have a lot of homework to do?" Mart asked as they walked down the long, empty corridor together, wanting to break the silence but unable to come up with anything else to say to her.

Di shook her head, sending her long hair in a motion that he found mesmerizing. "I'm in pretty good shape right now. In fact, I'm pretty lucky. There's nothing looming ahead of me other than a few quizzes until after the prom." She pointed to the closed door. "This is our break room." She opened the door and went ahead. It was dark and empty so she flipped on the light switch and then took the offered money from Mart.

The prom. He didn't hear a single word she had said after those two words. He felt a sigh and wanted to pummel the boy who had the pleasure of taking her to it. Not that it was a crime but…it was the principle, he decided with a small grunt of dismay. His eyes narrowed as he watched her put the money in. Of course, the bill Trixie had given them was too wrinkled for the machine and kept spitting it back out at them. He pulled out his wallet and grabbed another bill. Taking her hand away from the vending machine after it failed to take the money for the fourth time, he murmured to Di, "Let me do it."

The brief contact sent small shivers up her arm. Not knowing what else to do, she crossed her arms over her chest. She felt silly, standing next to him, and studied him covertly. He hadn't responded at all when she had brought the prom up, was focused solely on the vending machine. Maybe she had sealed her own fate and would be dateless on prom night. She wanted to stomp her feet in disappointment and despair but decided that would be a little too unladylike. She'd have to wait until she was in the confines of her bedroom. "I'll take a grape juice," she told him instead.

"Too bad they don't have strawberry pop," he noted with a small chuckle that did nothing to alleviate his edginess. "Trixie would have that cleared out in no time." He handed the grape juice to her and then got the next two drinks, a Sierra Mist for Trixie and a Pepsi for him. He had to ask it, even though he dreaded her answer. "Are you excited about the prom?" he inquired, intentionally keeping his eyes off of her and on the red blinking lights announcing the price of a drink.

She reached for the switch and turned off the overhead lighting, leaving them essentially in the dark. The dark made her feel braver. At least she wouldn't be able to see the pity on his face. Taking a deep breath, she hesitated before throwing it all on the line, "I can't say that I'm all that excited about going to the prom, as things stand right now. I have the dress and the shoes and a great set of friends to go with but I'd be much happier if I actually had a date." What was the worst thing that could happen? she wondered a bit frantically after throwing that information out there. He could laugh at her, refuse to go with her, or agree to go with her out of pity. The last one would be the most painful; she decided as she bit her bottom lip and waited for his reaction.

The drinks slid out of his loosened grip. His mouth went slack. "What?" he exploded, staring at her in shock, as the two bottles clunked to the floor and rolled under the table, forgotten.

Di felt the blush again and was grateful that the room was darkened. He wouldn't be able to see it. Gracefully, she bent down to retrieve the drinks but was stopped by him. "I never had a date," she admitted lowly, keeping her eyes downcast and on his shoes. They were sneakers, she noticed with a start, studying the way the shoelaces were neatly tied, and chewed the lipstick off of her bottom lip.

He took the last bottle out of her hands and set it on the table. "What do you mean?" His eyebrows furrowed together. When she only continued to stare at the ground, he placed a finger under her chin and gently lifted it until her violet eyes met his blue ones.

It was time for the truth. "There wasn't any one at school that I wanted to take me to the prom," she breathed out, finally finding the courage from somewhere deep inside to state her feelings. "The only person I ever wanted to go with was you."

He was stunned speechless. The words sunk in, making his own feelings for her grow and intensify. The prettiest girl in town wanted to go with him? Not only was she the prettiest girl in town, but she was also the girl that he liked above all others. She wanted to go with him? He hardly dared to believe it and had to say the words aloud. "You want to go with me to the prom?" He took a deep breath and repeated it again, "You want me to be your date? For your senior prom?"

Left with no other recourse, hoping that he wasn't going to soften the blow before letting her down gently, Di nodded her head, every hope and fear she felt reflected on her face but he couldn't see them. The shadows successfully kept them hidden from view. "Yes." Her voice came out, whisper soft, but full of certainty and strength.

He had a tough time fighting to keep the smile off of his handsome face. It seemed to grow bigger and bigger with each passing second. He couldn't believe it. How the hell did he get to be so lucky? It felt like he had been handed a treasured dream on a silver platter. "Diana Lynch, I would love to take you to the prom," he announced fiercely seconds before engulfing her in a strong hug.

Closing her eyes, Di let the relief wash over her and enjoyed the embrace. It wasn't pity she was feeling from him. She hugged him just as tightly back. "Oh, Mart, I was so afraid you would say no!" she exclaimed as she stepped back, brushing aside a stray strand of her hair, and fervently wished she hadn't turned the lights off. She would have given anything to see the look in his eyes at this moment.

Almost as if he could read her thoughts, he flipped the lights back on, needing to see every nuance on her lovely face. "How could you ever think that?" he murmured to her, finally letting the feelings he had for her show in his piercing blue eyes. Taking her hands in his, he held on tightly and proclaimed, his words simple and true, "I would do anything for you, Di. You must know that."

She stared up at him for a long moment and let herself believe his words. Her heart swelled at his intent gaze. The smile that graced her lips was brilliant. "Oh, this is just wonderful!" She clasped her hands together and barely resisted the urge to jump up and down like the schoolgirl she still was, for a few more weeks, at least.

Mart felt such intense happiness it was almost overpowering. He had to clear his throat to bring his thoughts back to the present. "You know, I'm sure that sister of mine is probably wondering what's taking us so long."

Di picked up her drink and raised an elegant eyebrow. "I doubt that. You don't know this but she's not allowed to have anything to eat or drink at the receptionist desk. It's policy and can't be broken."

Mart slid a glance at her, the bottles in his hand. "Really?" he questioned, drawing out the two-syllable word. "Hmmm. It seems my sister is starting to get sneaky in her old age of eighteen."

"I'm rather grateful to her," Di said as she walked past Mart to the door. "She pushed us together, gave us a few moments of privacy, and finally made me find the courage to ask you." She laughed nervously. "Thank goodness you said yes. It would have been awful to have to explain to everyone why, exactly, I wasn't going to the prom."

"You didn't have to worry about that, Di." Mart hesitated but then put an arm around her waist, carefully balancing the two bottles in his free hand. He had dreamed about something like this for so long. It felt so damn good. He had to fight to keep the stupid grin off his face.

They walked back, their pace slow and comfortable, not talking but reveling in the feelings of a new relationship that was just beginning. Both realized that they had turned a corner and the landscape before them was new, exciting, and something neither had ever experienced before.

Trixie took her seat after showing a nice elderly couple where the restaurant was located and caught her brother and Di out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes crinkled happily at the edges. It was easy to tell that Di had finally asked him. It was even easier to know what his answer was. "Good to see the two of you again. I was wondering what took you so long," she said, her tone as dry as dirt while her tongue was tucked firmly into her cheek.

Di didn't catch the sarcasm. She simply couldn't contain the news. She burst out excitedly, her eyes dancing, "You're never going to guess this, Trix! Mart's going to go with me to the prom!" She let out a sharp squeal that had the few guest in the room giving her curious stares.

Immediately, Trixie hopped out of her seat and flew around the desk. She took Di's hands in hers. Together, the girls jumped up and down, to Mart's amusement. It wasn't too often that he was given a front row seat to the antics of any of the girls. "That's wonderful, Di!" She gave Di a hug before teasing her, "Although I can't say all that much for your taste. I mean, Mart, of all people! My goodness!"

He gave her a small shove. "I trust you can keep your opinions to yourself, Beatrix."

Trixie took a small step back and looked at the happy twosome. They were both beaming with happiness. She recalled what Honey had said a few days ago about them being the 'first Bob-White couple' and couldn't wait to tell her friend the good news. "Well, I'm very excited for the two of you. I think it's fabulous that you're going to go to the prom together."

A large clutter came from the direction of the restaurant, causing all three of them to jump at the sharp sound. Trixie's hand went to heart as she gazed towards the restaurant. "I guess someone must have dropped a tray or something," she mumbled, trying to decide what could have caused such a loud noise.

Di felt her heart slowly return to its normal rhythm. "Oh, my, but that surprised me." Her hand slid into Mart's, seeking comfort he was more than willing to give. "That was unexpected."

Mart was glad it happened. If it meant that he could hold her hand, he was content. He started to pull Di towards the long sofas in the corner of the large room and called out over his shoulder, "We'll wait over here for you, Trix. You've still got a good twenty minutes left before it's time to call it an evening." He gave her a careless wave, his attention focuses solely on the lovely lady holding his hand.

Trixie sat back down, watching the two of them sit down in the corner, far away from any of the other inhabitants of the room. They looked so good together, just as she always knew they would. "Good for you, Di," she said under her breath. "I'm glad that it's going to work out for you." A glance at the clock told her that it was going to be a long twenty minutes. She turned her seat so that she wouldn't be staring at the couple who only had eyes for each other, wanting to give them some privacy in the large room. A quick motion out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, causing the fine hairs on the back of her neck to lift up in warning. She wiped her head around. Lines settled on her forehead as she tried to pinpoint what, exactly, she had seen. But nothing was there, not anymore. The hallway was empty, completely devoid of human activity. She started to get up to investigate but then sat back down with a small, irritated humph. She wasn't permitted to leave the desk, unless she was assisting a guest. Her earlier good feelings receded swiftly as her senses went back on alert. "This is insane," she complained, dropping her head in her hands. "Now I'm seeing things." She bit her lip but couldn't shake the odd sensation.


	18. Chapter 17

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Seventeen

The day dawned beautiful and bright. The sunlight filtering through the curtains fell across Trixie's bed, causing her to groan at its unwelcome intrusion. She pulled the pillow over her head to block it out, to no avail, and flopped onto her stomach, needing at least one more minute before she had to enter the real world. Then the loud buzz of the alarm went off, gleefully announcing that it was time to get up, whether she wanted to or not. Disgusted, she threw her pillow at it.

It didn't work. The alarm clock only fell to the floor with a loud crash. The annoying buzzing continued, much to her growing irritation. She sat up in bed, reached over, and slammed it. Rubbing her tired eyes, Trixie felt like she had just fallen to sleep and dropped her head into her hands. "Not enough sleep again," she mumbled hoarsely. Sleep seemed to be becoming more of an enemy than an ally to her, cheerfully mocking her the past few nights with her inability to actually achieve it with any duration of success. There were too many thoughts that she couldn't prevent from entering her head. They kept swirling around and around in her mind, as if they were the pieces of a jumbled puzzle that she didn't have the ability or knowledge to put together yet. And when she finally did manage to fall asleep, pesky things like the bright sun and her alarm clock plotted against her.

It took an effort to simply move from the comforts of her bed to the floor. "I can already feel that this is going to be a great day," she groaned cynically. It was through blurry eyes that she haphazardly rummaged through her dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans and a dark green top that wasn't overly wrinkled. It wasn't unusual for her. She didn't particularly care what she looked like.

Not wanting to wake the other inhabitants in the full house, she stumbled around as quietly as she could. She made it to the bathroom to brush her teeth and ran a comb through her unruly curls, got dressed, and quickly made her bed. Knowing it wouldn't pass her mother's inspection; Trixie closed her bedroom door with a quiet snap and prayed her mother wouldn't inspect her room. Then she headed down the stairs and into the kitchen, the spring that was normally evident in her step completely missing. The smell of freshly percolating coffee assaulted her the second she entered the kitchen. Surprisingly, she was the not the only one up and about on the early Wednesday morning. "Mart," she grunted from the doorway.

He lifted his head, a clever retort dying on his lips. He studied her, took in the fatigue she couldn't hide, and felt a small frown work its way across his face. She looked tired, not like her usual energetic self. He resolutely clamping down on the urge to tease her. He wasn't certain if she could handle it right now. She seemed…fragile. Besides, he thought with a small shrug, it wasn't that much fun teasing her when she didn't get fired up or fiercely give it back to him. He poured a cup of freshly brewed coffee and offered it to her. She could certainly use a little pick-me-up. "Rough night?" he asked sympathetically.

"Couldn't sleep," she replied, taking the coffee with a small smile of gratitude. Not much of a coffee drinker, she figured she could use its benefits today. "Thanks, Mart. I have a feeling my teachers are going to be extremely grateful to you. Otherwise I think I may fall asleep with my face on my notebook. Wouldn't it be nice to have to go through the day with the spirals imprinted on the side of my cheek?"

He didn't take the opportunity to tease her. Instead he watched, dumbfounded, as she poured in three heaping spoonfuls of sugar and a generous dollop of milk. "That is not right," he grumbled, appalled. "How can you drink coffee that way?" Still shivering in disgust for all normal coffee drinkers everywhere, he filled up his thermos and then another one for Dan with pure, untainted black coffee.

"It's the only way I can," she answered back and flopped down in a chair. "Brian's not up yet?"

"Nah," Mart answered. He pulled down a bowl and some cereal. "I wouldn't be surprised if he sleeps to noon. He looks worn out. I think the past semester took a hard toll on him."

"Hmm." She thought so, too. Searching for another topic of conversation that didn't require too much thinking, she settled on his plans for the day. "Are you and Dan working early this morning?"

Mart sat down across from her with his cereal and started eating. "Dan will be picking me up soon," he informed her between bites. "Obviously we're getting an earlier start today. We're heading over to Mrs. Elliott's this morning. She wants us to help start a new garden for her, plus do some other lawn maintenance that she needs done. We'll be there the whole entire day and most of tomorrow, too."

The caffeine was helping. She thought she may even be able to make it through the next ten minutes without falling asleep. Surely the rest of the caffeine would kick in to assist her with the school day, she thought with a small shot of optimism. "Do you think Moms and Dad would mind if I stayed home today?" she wondered hopefully, eyeing the doorway warily in case either one were to enter the room.

He laughed in her face. "Not a chance, squaw, not a chance." He reached over and felt her forehead, pretending to take her temperature. "You may be able to fool them if you looked sick or if you had a fever but you're good. Not getting enough sleep won't cut it. In fact, they would probably say it serves you right for volunteering to work on a school night."

"That's exactly what I thought." She finished the rest of her sweetened coffee, sighing as she put her empty mug on the table. The thought of food wasn't appealing in the least. Standing up, she announced, "I'm going to wait outside for Honey and Di."

His ears perked up at the name. "I'll be glad to keep you company," he informed her casually. He finished his cereal in record time and hurried over to the refrigerator. He called out as he reached inside, searching through the contents for his midday meal, "I'll meet you outside as soon as I pack up lunch for Dan and me."

"That could take all morning," she remarked with a roll of her eyes. She made sure her spot was cleaned up and walked out the door. "Come out after you've finished emptying the refrigerator, Mart." Then she walked down the hall, giving both her mother and father a good morning hug before going out to wait for her ride on the front porch.

The cool air of the spring morning felt refreshing on her face, helping her wake up more efficiently than the coffee had. She still wasn't excited about the prospect of going to school but, she realized with a fatalistic shrug, she didn't have to put up with it that much longer. There weren't that many more days to go. She figured she could make it through one single day. Then she sat down on the front porch, her backpack at her feet, and absolutely no appetite whatsoever. Running a hand through her curls in an attempt to tame them, she stared unseeingly towards the driveway and the vehicle driving up it, trying to dredge up some enthusiasm for starting her day.

The vehicle coming up the drive wasn't the station wagon. She pinned a smile of welcome on her face for the driver of the black pick-up truck. Dan parked it behind Mart's car and climbed out, stretching and yawning broadly. "Remind why I thought it was a good idea to work with your brother again?" he hollered to her as he came up the walk.

Trixie smiled up at him. Dan could always chase away her moods. "It can't be for the company. It's got to be for the food." Most days Mart, or, more importantly, Moms, supplied the food for them. She pointed behind her. "I'm sure he's in the kitchen right now, getting everything packed up for you. There were a lot of leftovers from dinner last night."

He could almost taste it and closed his eyes in appreciation. There was nothing he liked better than Mrs. Belden's cooking. He leaned against the porch railing and whispered conspiratorially, willing to help her even the score with her brother and his best friend, "You know, Trixie, I'd be glad to offer you my services, should you ever want to get even with Mart. I may have information that you could find very interesting."

Her laugh was low and soft and verged on normal. She was finally starting to feel like herself and gave him a grin that lessened the purple shadows under her eyes. "Dan, that sounds delightful! You have no idea how much I'd like to get even with him for that little cell phone trick. I've kept a close watch on my phone ever since." Winking at him, she shifted closer and proclaimed, "We can work on our strategy later. I think I hear him coming."

Mart came out the front door, carrying a cooler and a thermos. He dropped the cooler with a loud thud and handed the coffee over. "Here's your coffee, Mangan," he announced to his business partner, bowing for good measure. He was glad to see that Trixie was still there. He hadn't missed seeing Di. "I'll be back in a moment with mine."

Dan took a sip of it gratefully and watched Mart go back into the farmhouse. "This is probably a stupid question but are you waiting for the other girls?"

Trixie nodded. "I'm sure they will be here any time…as long as neither one of them is running late," she added sardonically. "The three of us have never been known for our promptness. It's a rare day when all of us are ready on time."

He knew the truth of that. Slipping a hip on the porch railing, he inquired, "What about Brian? Is he home? It was all Mart could talk about yesterday. He even forgot to use his big words. I could actually understand everything he said without getting a headache. He's really excited to have his big brother back."

"Yeah, Brian made it home late yesterday afternoon. He's sleeping the sleep of the dead, I'm sure. He looked absolutely drained when he got home. I have a feeling that the next few weeks are going to be very peaceful for him." She thought about her eldest brother with a small, troubled frown. He had seemed different than the Brian she had expected to see. She hoped that he hadn't taken on too much.

"He always takes his work very seriously," Dan remarked. He could picture an exhausted Brian in his mind very clearly. It didn't surprise him. The work load he had voluntarily put himself through had been remarkably tough and part of the reason why the four male Bob-Whites hadn't spent much time together in the City.

Changing the subject, she leaned towards him and mentioned in a loud stage whisper, wanting to clue Dan in on the newest development, "You're going to have to ask Mart about last night when you get the chance, Dan."

Dan's eyes lit up as he pondered the possibilities. "What could that mean?" he wondered aloud, shooting her a quick glance and seeing the merriment twinkling in her eyes. "That's not fair, Trixie. I can tell that you're not going to tell me. You're going to let me sit here and stew about it, huh?"

"You're right," she replied cheerfully, giggling at the dismayed look on his face. She pointed to the driveway. "And it looks like my ride is here now. Ahead of time, too, so you won't be able to grill me." She stood up, her backpack on her shoulder, and watched Di pull the station wagon behind Dan's truck.

"She looks really happy," Dan noticed as he came down the front porch steps with Trixie, carrying the cooler with him, Mart a few steps behind them. "Di, that is. I don't think I've ever seen her see that happy before. I take it that whatever happened with Mart last night involves her, right?"

"You're going to make an excellent police officer," Trixie whispered quietly so only Dan could hear her. She gauged the distance between them and Mart, decided she had enough time for another confidence, and added, "If you think she's happy now, you should have seen her last night. She was practically floating on air."

Curiosity was eating away at him. "Good morning, girls," Dan announced when they reached the car. He put the cooler in the back of his truck and gave them a wave, keeping a watchful eye on Mart and Di, hoping to discover a clue to last night's events, and felt a slow grin move across his face. The feelings each shared were written plainly across their faces. "About time," he said to himself and mentally prepared himself to tease the living daylights out of Mart. He wasn't going to let such a golden opportunity pass him by.

Di only had eyes for Mart, didn't even notice that Dan was there. Her smile was absolutely brilliant. "Hi, Mart," she said, thinking he looked very handsome in his ripped white t-shirt, stained blue jeans, and dark brown work boots. She fluttered her eyelashes, unintentionally ignoring Trixie and Dan. She had been waiting all morning to see Mart and felt her heart swell when he greeted her.

From the passenger seat, Honey watched on with a knowing grin. She had been filled in, first by Trixie on an extremely quick phone call last night, and then by an ecstatic Di on the ride over to Crabapple Farm. She couldn't have been happier for her friends. It was obvious that both Mart and Di were overjoyed by the burgeoning change in their relationship. Her gaze slid of its own accord to the closed front door of the farmhouse and she bit back a soft sigh. It would have been nice to have at least seen Brian but it looked like he was still sleeping.

Trixie got in the backseat, settling herself while Di and Mart shared happy smiles and little else, oblivious to the rest of them, and Dan watched on in pure amusement. She glanced at Honey, who gave a good-natured shrug and arched an eyebrow at her. "There's no accounting for taste," Trixie joked, pointing at the back of Di's head.

Honey ignored the good-natured remark. She had a strong feeling that Mart and Di would be the recipients of a lot of ribbing from their friends and almost felt sorry for them. Almost. "We're all on time, for once," she answered back. "Do you think we'll need to prod our driver so that we're not late for school?"

Di heard them, gave them each an aggravated look, and then waved a farewell to her prom date, her sweet smile back in place. "I'll see you later, Mart," she beamed, lost in the spectacular feelings of the beginnings of a romance. She put the car in reverse and started backing up, her violet eyes sparkling brightly.

The ride to school went by fast. Di didn't stop talking the entire way, too excited about the evening before. She filled both of them in on how she had asked Mart to the prom and shared his reaction. She was flying high, well above the famous cloud nine, and she looked it, too. From the back seat, Trixie sat back quietly and listened to Di, offering very little to the conversation. She studied her friend with a curious strain of envy, wishing she could feel as happy and carefree. But she couldn't. As much as she hated to admit it, there was something happening to her. She opened her mouth during a lull in the conversation, unsure of what she was going to say but wanting to say something about her suspicions, when Di turned into the nearly full school's parking lot.

"We're here!" Di shouted out gaily and pulled the station wagon into an open spot. She parked the car and cut the engine. "We're on time, too. No tardies for us!" The day couldn't get much better, in her opinion. She released a small laugh as she got out of the car.

The opportunity was lost. Disappointed, Trixie got out of the car, much slower than the other two, and lagged a few steps behind them. She scanned the area around them but all she saw were high schoolers pouring into the school building. Nothing unusual. Nothing out of sorts. She took in a deep, frustrated breath and strongly wished that she didn't have such a complicated mind.

Honey noticed that something wasn't quite right with her friend. Again. Trixie was pale, her eyes were tired, and her normally endless supply of vitality seemed to have been drained. Her eyebrows pulled together as she mumbled under her breath, "Are you feeling all right, Trix?"

"I'm not sick," Trixie replied while Di skipped ahead to talk with a few students in her first period class. "Only tired."

Honey wasn't going to let it go. She knew Trixie too well. Holding onto her arm, staring straight into her eyes, she questioned compassionately, "Is there something you want to talk about?"

She hesitated before answering back in the same quiet voice, "There may be, Honey. There may just be." It felt like the load on her shoulders lightened a bit. Talking out her suspicions may be the best thing for her. Looking around, she shook her head. School was not the place to get into it. "Not here, though. Maybe later?"

"Of course." Honey kept a sharp eye on Di. She didn't like excluding their friend but sometimes she didn't have a choice. Whatever was bothering Trixie was big. Honey could feel it. "Privately?"

"Definitely." It always helped to share her worries. She sometimes forgot that fact. It was time to bring her partner in on…whatever it was. Honey was great at keeping her grounded. Maybe she could help convince her that there wasn't anything going on. At the very least, she hoped sharing her growing burden would help her sleep better. "After school would be best, I think."

"Why don't you come over right after you finish your chores?" Honey suggested lightly. Manor House was much quieter than Crabapple Farm. Plus, if Trixie needed immediate help, Jim would be there. He didn't have any plans for the day, other than exercising the horses and going for a run. Her lovely hazel eyes took on a nervous glint. It suddenly felt like the school day was going to be an exceedingly long one. She wished fiercely that it was over so that she could listen to Trixie's concerns and help alleviate them.

"Yes, that's good, Honey. I'll come up to your house as soon as I can. It'll probably be after four, though. There's always the slim chance that Moms will let me out of my chores and I can get there earlier." Not if she saw the state of her bedroom, Trixie realized with an inward groan. She forced out a laugh that sounded fake to her own ears and pasted a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes when Di rejoined them, radiant as a beam of sun.

"I am so excited. I wish the prom was this Saturday instead of next weekend! " Di exclaimed happily, clapping her hands together and barely resisting the urge to jump up and down. She was completely unaware of the undercurrents of worry and concern that were running like water between Trixie and Honey. "Today feels like the best day ever!"

Trixie wasn't so sure about that but she kept her pessimism to herself. "Come on. Let's go, ladies." She led the way into the school, trudging her way to her first period, her attitude the most unenthusiastic she could ever remember being for a school day. The morning dragged on, slower than ever, chasing away the effects of her morning coffee and making Trixie feel even more fatigued. Luck wasn't with her today. Most of her teachers called on her, exasperated with her continued lack of voluntary participation in their classes. She was at least able to stumble her way through the answers, which was better marginally better than not being able to answer them at all, and considered herself fortunate when none of her classmates snickered at her. She only earned small glares from her teachers.

She didn't say much during lunch and hardly ate a thing, earning a set of inquisitive glances from Honey. It didn't register on Di who monopolized most of the conversation. Trixie was grateful. She didn't have to participate much, only had to add in a 'yes', 'no' or 'maybe' every now and then, and avoided Honey's eyes. When lunchtime was over, she trailed behind her friends on their way to their lockers, her head downcast and focused on the floor worn by years of countless teenagers trotting across it, and unaware of the throng of people hustling by her.

6-16-2. Even the simple combination of her locker seemed to be beyond her. Not concentrating, lost in thought, it took her three times and a few ill-natured grumblings before she was able to do it successfully. Rattling the locker open, she gave a loud sigh and reached inside for her chemistry book. It was the only homework she needed to do in her study hall. She had to read the next chapter before her class.

Then she did a double-take. Blue eyes narrowed when she saw the item sitting innocently on the shelf. All color drained from her face. Normally the sight of it wouldn't have caused fear to bubble up and pop within her, until it spread through her and caused shivers to course up and down her spine. But it hadn't been there this morning. And she hadn't seen it since Saturday. Her NYU hat, the one she had lost the day she went riding with Jim, stared back at her, its presence an unwelcome surprise to her. "Honey, did you happen to put something in my locker today?" she asked, her words drawn out, and coming from somewhere far, far away. But she knew the answer. If Honey had brought the hat to school, she would have given it to her on the car ride in.

Honey didn't look beyond the words. Delving into her bookbag, she held her notebook up with a triumphant yelp. "Got it! I'll be able to turn my homework in!" she exclaimed breathlessly. Then she recalled what her friend had said and apologized quickly, "Oh, sorry, Trix. I was worried about my homework. No, I didn't put anything in your locker today." About to ask her why, the warning bell sounded, proclaiming there were only three minutes left for students to get to their next class and that they needed to get moving, and derailing her train of thought. "'Bye, Trixie! I'll see you at the end of the day!" Honey and Di dashed away, joining the throng of students as they traveled in a large pack to their next class.

Trixie didn't move. She was jostled a bit as students pushed passed her but it didn't register and she didn't move out of their way. She stared at the hat and felt her stomach hit the floor, the blue of her eyes wide and more than a little frightened. "This can't be good. It can't be," she said to herself, feeling as if she was the only person left in the entire school. Then her cell phone let out a happy musical chirp in direct contrast to her mood, letting her know that she had received a text message. Forgetting that students were not allowed to have a cell phone turned on in the hallways and were certainly not permitted to use a cell phone except in the cafeteria during their lunch wave, she flipped it open.

And felt the world as she knew it crumple and reform into something much darker and desolate than she had ever thought possible. "Do you like my present?" she read aloud. The words were an everyday expression of total innocence but their meaning filled her and left her with an emptiness that she had never experienced before. She couldn't take her attention off the phone, standing as still as a marble statue while the rest of the high school flowed over and around her. "Damn," she muttered as all of the pieces finally clicked together, spitting out the curse word since 'gleeps' or 'jeepers' simply didn't fit. The puzzle wasn't fuzzy anymore. It was ugly, disturbing, and all too complete.

A loud sigh of disappointment came from behind her. Then a teacher broke into her thoughts. "I'll take that phone, Miss Belden."

Still intent on her cell phone, Trixie jumped back with a small gasp, startled by the teacher's arrival. "Oh, sorry," she got out as she closed the phone and handed it over automatically, her freckles standing out against the ashen white of her face.

Mrs. Wilson didn't notice her emotional state. She took the cell phone, unhappy that she had to discipline a student, and a senior one at that. She explained in the monosyllabic tone that teachers excel at using, "You know the drill by now, I'm sure, Trixie. I'll turn your phone into the office. You can pick it up at the end of the day." She glanced at her watch and gave a helpful suggestion, "And I'm sure you don't want to be marked down as tardy on top of losing your cell phone. You only have one minute to get to class before you're late. Hurry up."

Trixie didn't hear her as she clicked away in her sensible teacher shoes. She could only stare at her open locker, making no move to retrieve her hat, while the words from the text message branded themselves into her mind. She closed it with trembling fingers, and slowly turned to go. Her feet felt like lead as she walked down the deserted hallway to her study hall, her chemistry book forgotten. She was a million miles away from school and focused on something entirely more threatening.


	19. Chapter 18

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Eighteen

The afternoon went by in a fog. Trixie didn't hear a single word that a teacher attempted to teach her, spending the few remaining periods with her chin in her hands and her eyes focused on a vague point outside of the windows. She had succeeded in blending into the background and hadn't been called on to answer any questions, much to her inner satisfaction. She had that much going for her, she thought sarcastically as she carefully made her way to the office after the dismissal bell rang out. It was slow going. She was walking against the flow of traffic. She sidestepped a group of giggling freshmen on their way to the buses and also the custodian who was mopping up a fresh spill near the office.

"Hello, Trixie," Miss Vale, the school secretary greeted her. Cradling the phone to her cheek, she pointed to a piece of paper on the front desk and told her, "I've been waiting for you. You'll need to sign out your phone. Lucky for you, this is only your first offense. You have two more before you will not be allowed to have your phone in school."

Trixie signed her full name on the required sheet but didn't pick up the phone only a few inches from her. She looked at it as if she didn't know what to do with it. Miss Vale had to hold it up and physically offer it to her before she finally took it, with only a small smile of thanks. Pocketing the cell phone, she walked out of the office and to the parking lot, mired deep in her dark thoughts, the recent events running through her mind like the reels of a bad horror film.

"Hey, what took you so long?" Di sang out gaily, leaning against the passenger side door. She fluffed her hair and smoothed out her purple blouse, her backpack at her feet, more than ready to head home and daydream about Mart. "We've been waiting for you for just about ever."

"More like five minutes," Honey corrected easily. Her laugh was tinged with a tiny bit of hysteria. She didn't like the faraway look to Trixie's eyes and hid her concern behind a smile that was too cheerful.

"I had to retrieve my cell," Trixie finally answered when both of her friends looked at her expectantly, keeping her response short and brief. She climbed into the backseat even though it was her turn to drive, needing the privacy, and unsure if she would be able to concentrate on the road. "I was caught using it in the hallway," she added at Di's questioning glance.

"Oh," Honey breathed out. She bit her bottom lip but pushed aside her questions until later, when they were alone. She had a new one to add to her extensive list. Trixie never, ever used her cell phone anywhere but in the cafeteria. She was the most careful out of the three of them. It was highly unusual. Studying her friend's averted face in the rearview mirror, she let it go. At least she had Trixie's promise to come to her house after school. She would probe for more then. She started the car and drove the other two girls home, keeping an easy running conversation going between herself and Di. Trixie didn't even attempt to join in.

They dropped off Di first, who was still completely in the dark of the turmoil swirling around like a forceful whirlwind within Trixie. She gave them a jaunty wave and practically skipped to her front door, excited about starting her first shift at the Country Club. Honey shook her head. At least dreams were working out for one of them. Then she broached the subject she was dying to find out more about. "When do you think you'll be able to get away? I want to know what is going on with you." They didn't have much time for a conversation. The distance was short distance between Di's driveway and the turnoff to Crabapple Farm.

"I have a feeling my mother is not going to be very happy with me when I get home. I seem to recall that I didn't leave my room all that neat this morning. I closed the door to it but I know that won't stop Moms from inspecting it," Trixie predicted correctly, thankful that she had something else to focus on. "There isn't a doubt in my mind that I'll have to put that room in order, plus have a small mound of other chores to do to make up for my negligence. I'll come up as soon as Moms lets me get away."

"Great." She shot a glance at her friend and inferred with a nervous giggle, "Call me crazy but I have a feeling you're going to have quite a story to tell me. I also believe that it's not going to be a very pleasant one, either."

Trixie kept her gaze on the floor of the car. As usual, her friend was right on the money. "You're not crazy," she mumbled lowly.

Honey's sigh was low and almost painful. "This is one time I almost wish I was. I think it would be easier to handle than what you're going to tell me." She pulled the car to a stop in the driveway. "Here you go, Trix. Do what you have to do and then come up to my house. I'll see you in a bit."

It felt like she had the weight of the world on her athletic shoulders. Forcing a small smile on her face, she lumbered up to the house where she knew her mother would be lying in wait for her. She closed the front door as quietly as she could but to an avail. Her mother was already in the living room.

"Trixie," Helen began the second after her daughter hung up her backpack, her hands on her hips and disappointment evident on her expressive face. Her eyebrows were drawn together into one straight line. She was not pleased with Trixie and wanted her daughter to know it.

Trixie winced, holding up her hands to forestall her from saying anything further, and giving in with as much poise as she could. She didn't have a choice. She was in the wrong. "I know, Moms, I know. You don't have to say anything else. Please. My room is a mess. I'll go get started on it now."

About to lecture her more, Helen stopped in mid-breath. She peered closely at Trixie, noticing the obvious signs of tiredness and felt her mother's sympathy click in, much to her chagrin. She didn't have the heart to continue the speech she had spent most of the day preparing in her mind. Trixie had enough to deal with. Helen prayed that she would share it with her soon. She worried more about her daughter than her sons. Trixie had such an amazing knack of getting into trouble. Trying to puzzle out what could be worrying her only girl, she missed the anxiety that Trixie was doing an excellent job of hiding. "Clean your room, Trixie. I'll check it out later."

In other words, her room needed to be immaculate. She didn't have the luxury of one of her infamous 'lick and a promise' cleanings. Trixie stopped on the first step and hesitated. She didn't want to push her luck. Moms was being very generous with her. "Is it okay if I go visit Honey afterwards? I don't have any homework tonight."

Helen wanted to tell her no as a consequence for keeping her bedroom in such an untidy state but something in her daughter's demeanor told her that she should let her go. She always listened to her inner voice when dealing with her children. "Okay," she finally agreed after carefully contemplating the question. The rest of the chores could wait. "Take care of your room, put your laundry away neatly, and then you may head up to the Manor House."

Trixie walked up the stairs, pulled open the door to her room and grimaced. It looked exactly the way she had left it. Her pajamas were in a mess on the floor. Mismatched shoes were strewn in an untidy parade throughout the room. While the bed was technically made, it was more jumbled than neat and missing a pillow. Her alarm clock was still dangling off of the nightstand and resting on the floor, with her pillow on top of it. A few books and other odds and ends littered the nightstand and the top of her dresser. The only new addition was a laundry basket filled with her clean clothes sitting at the foot of her bed. "She went very easy on me," Trixie decided as she started to get to work. The few chores helped keep her occupied. She put away the folded clothes, took her time straightening up her room, and then stood back to admire it, her hands on her hips. "I don't think Moms will have a problem with it now," she proclaimed to herself. It would pass inspection.

"It looks much better," Brian proclaimed from the open doorway. He had a grin on his handsome face. "I would have cleaned it up for you before Moms had a chance to see it if I hadn't slept in so long this morning. I woke up to her grumbling about her messy daughter."

"Thanks for the thought, although I more than deserved Moms' semi-lecture," she responded with a shrug. "She could have given it to me with both barrels but she held herself back. I'm very thankful for that." Noticing that Brian looked much more refreshed, she asked, "What time did you wake up today?"

"Eleven o'clock," he said with a wistful smile, feeling like himself and not a pre-med zombie. "It was the more restful sleep I've had in a long, long time. It won't take me long to get used to it. I think another day or two of pure, blissful sleep and I'll be back to my normal self."

"I'm going to visit Honey if Moms says it's all right," she told him as she walked over to the doorway. She left her door open to prove that her room was now neat and orderly and went down the stairs with her brother.

He wanted to offer to go with her but something stopped him. He correctly interpreted the unspoken fact that Trixie wanted to see Honey alone. "Are you working on a homework assignment together?" he inquired while watching her retrieve her backpack.

"No," Trixie answered honestly, unable to lie to her eldest brother. She chose her words with extreme care in an attempt to fool him but didn't want to give away the reason for her visit. "We're not doing anything for school. We have a few other things to discuss."

Brian didn't push although he gave her his best big brother stare. She couldn't dupe him. He could recognize the signs as well as any of the Bob-Whites. Something was afoot. He wondered if the others suspected anything yet. He followed her into the kitchen, speculating about what she had gotten herself into now, and arched an eyebrow. He had only been home for twenty-four hours and she was already knee-deep in something mysterious. Then he felt a small grin travel across his face. She wouldn't be Trixie if she wasn't getting into trouble.

They went into the kitchen where their mother was cutting up vegetables for a salad. "My room is back to normal, Moms. You can go up and check it out if you would like to," she offered. "Is it okay if I go and see Honey now?"

"I can handle dinner by myself." Although she had a list of other housekeeping chores that needed to be done, including putting together dinner, Helen didn't stop her. She nodded wisely. There was something about her daughter's eyes that she didn't like. She couldn't put her finger on it but she knew that spending time with Honey would be the best medicine for Trixie. "I hope you have a good time with Honey. We'll be eating in an hour and a half if you aren't having dinner with her. Give us a call if you're staying with Honey."

"I'll see you later," Trixie said to her mother and her brother. She squashed a small amount of guilt when Brian went to her mother's side and competently started helping her with the salad. Trixie knew she should at least offer to help but she didn't want to give her mother the chance to change her mind and she desperately needed to discuss her worries with Honey. She grabbed her backpack and was out the back door, on her way up to the Manor House. It took her much longer than normal to travel the path that she could walk up blindfolded, if need be. Every noise, no matter how tiny or insignificant, put her on edge and made her jump. She didn't like walking the short distance on her own. She clutched her cell phone in one hand, prepared to make a call should she need to, and felt a little safer. She passed the clubhouse and the boathouse without any clear recollection of either, keeping her attention focused solely on the path ahead of her, and felt an immense amount of relief when the large and impressive Manor House came into sight, towering magnificently against the bright blue sky.

Miss Trask responded to her knock. "Good afternoon, Trixie," the efficient housekeeper greeted her with a large smile of welcome. "Honey told me you would be arriving soon."

"Hi, Miss Trask." She had to force the words out past her dry throat. Her nerves were threatening to strangle her. The time had come for her to finally tell someone what was happening to her. She wasn't looking forward to it.

If Miss Trask noticed a difference in Trixie, she didn't let on or question her about it. She motioned for her to come into the house. "Honey is upstairs in her room. I think she's waiting for you. Please, feel free to go on up. She'll be happy to see you."

The wide flight of stairs had never seemed longer. Tightly gripping the edge of the railing, she slowly made her way up to the second floor, practicing in her mind what she would say to Honey, and hoping she wouldn't run in to Jim. She doubted if he would let her get by with the flimsy excuse she had given Brian. The sounds of her footsteps were muffled on the thick carpet as she closed in on Honey's room. She couldn't help but notice that Jim's bedroom door was cracked open on the opposite side of the hall. She wondered if he was inside before she took a deep, fortifying breath and knocked lightly on Honey's door.

Honey was at the door in an instant. "Trixie!" she breathed out and practically dragged her into the room, closing the door behind her with a smart click. "Thank goodness you're finally here. I haven't been able to get a single thing done since I got home. All I've been able to do is stare out the window, waiting for you to arrive!" she exclaimed earnestly, holding onto Trixie's hands with hers. "I've been going out of my mind ever since I dropped you off!"

Trixie dropped her backpack onto Honey's bed and slowly sank down onto it. "I've been waiting to talk this over with you, too," she admitted, her voice low and hoarse. "Moms only made me straighten up my room and put my laundry away. I was astonished that she didn't have a list of chores a mile long for me to do. I can't believe that I was able to get here this soon."

"I know you too well, Trix. You're hedging," Honey noted correctly. She sat down next to her friend and placed a comforting arm around her. She could feel the tension that had a strong hold on Trixie. Squeezing hard, she insisted, "You can tell me anything. You know that."

Trixie agreed fiercely, "Of course I can, Honey!" Honey would always be there to help her out. She reached into her backpack and pulled out the letter she had received a week ago and the chart that she had made at lunch the day before. Both papers were crumpled and folded in half. She decided to start at the beginning. "There has been a set of strange circumstances going on around me for about a week now, Honey. It wasn't clear if there was anything to them other than my own overactive imagination; not until this afternoon at school, which is why I haven't said anything to you about them." She gave a short, ugly giggle at her rambling explanation and threw her hands up in the air. "Enough of that. I can now say with absolute certainty that there is something mysterious going on, even though I really wish that there wasn't."

An ominous sense of dread overcame her. It was with shaking hands that she took the papers from Trixie and unfolded them. Her fingers nervously straightened out the folds on the note and she read it aloud, puzzled. It didn't make any sense to her. "I see you." She frowned, bewildered by the message. "That's strange." Then she scrutinized the handmade chart and the picture become much too clear, much too quickly. Her eyebrows drew together, her lips pursed, and she felt some of the color drain out of her face. "Oh, Trix. I don't think I like this," she croaked out roughly.

"Wait, Honey. There's more." Trixie tried to be business-like but failed miserably. Her voice trembled as she explained haltingly, "I don't have the latest incidents on the chart." She took out her cell phone and called up the text message. "Do you remember when I asked you if you had put something in my locker today?"

Honey felt her face go stony with helpless anger, anger directed at the nameless, faceless person who was treating her best friend so horribly. "What did you find in your locker?" she demanded strongly. She wished she had paid more attention to Trixie but, at the time, she had been more concerned about finding her homework and getting to her class on time. Now she was filled with a deep regret that her friend had been left to face the unpleasantness alone, whatever it had been.

She gave a shudder, picturing the item in her mind. "It was my NYU hat," she replied gruffly.

"But that's the hat you lost when…" Honey's voice trailed off. "Oh. Oh. Ooooh," she repeated stupidly, her brain working furiously to catch up with Trixie's. "Then you think that your fall must have been a part of this, too."

"Looks like," she remarked curtly, doing the best that she could to appear indifferent. Trixie worked hard to keep her voice firm, strong and detached as she shared her conclusions. "I'm not sure if the fall was purposeful or if it was an accident. I find it hard to believe that someone could engineer a fall from a horse but who knows? Stranger things have happened. We've certainly seen that in some of the complicated mysteries we've solved." Then she shrugged. "But it doesn't matter, not really. Whoever is doing all of this must have been close enough to see my fall, whether they made it happen or not; then they must have taken my hat after Jim and I left." She did not like the idea that she had been spied upon, especially when she had been alone with Jim. She wanted to cherish that time, not have it tainted by the hand of someone she didn't want to know. It made her boil with anger. It was not a good combination with the fear that was continuously building within her. She could never remember feeling so unsettled.

Honey was silent for a long moment. She let the information settle, attempted to look at it from all sides, and kept coming up with the same menacing thought. "This isn't good, Trixie," she decreed sharply, the expression on her face deadly serious.

"There's still more." Normally she would have laughed at the exasperated sound Honey made, but not today. She couldn't find much amusing about the whole situation. Trixie held her cell phone up so Honey could read the text message. She took the time to note the number the message was from. It was an unknown number again but she hadn't expected anything less. "This is the reason why I lost my cell phone today at school. I forgot to turn my phone off at lunch. Then, when I saw the hat in my locker, it started beeping. I didn't think. Nothing unusual in that. I was too dumbfounded to remember that students can't have their phones on outside of the cafeteria and I answered it."

Honey's hazel eyes darkened and grew larger. "Oh, no, oh, no," she breathed out. "This isn't good, Trix. This isn't good at all." She couldn't seem to stop repeating herself. She chewed off her remaining lipstick, her nails digging into her palms, nearly drawing blood. The scenario wasn't an attractive one. She covered her mouth and concentrated on the simple act of breathing, very close to hyperventilating. "I think, I think…"

"What do you think?" Trixie prodded as Honey's voice trailed off.

Instead of answering, she read over the black and white facts one more time, scowled at the letter and the text message, and came to a solid deduction. Her face was now as white as Trixie's. She stood up and declared with finality, knowing that her friend would not agree with her decision but seeing no other way out of this one, "That's it, Trix. I'm throwing my hands up. We're not going to even attempt to solve this one on our own. It's much too serious and there's way too much at stake. It's beyond us, whether you want to admit it or not. I'm going to go get Jim. Now."

Trixie immediately put a restraining hand on her, stopping her, and pleading softly with her friend. She didn't want to include anyone else, not unless it was absolutely necessary. She was still holding onto that tiny smidgeon of hope that there wasn't a problem; that it was all some unpleasant dream she would wake up from and her life would go back to normal. "Please, Honey, I'd rather not. At least, not yet. I don't want to worry anyone."

"You don't have a choice!" Honey shot back. She put her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing her annoyance. She needed some outlet for her fear. This was a good one. She stomped her foot for good measure. "Can you imagine what the rest of the Bob-Whites would say if they discover that there's some lunatic out there stalking you in, say, two weeks time? They would never forgive us!"

Trixie felt some color return to her cheeks. "I know," she muttered miserably. "Believe me, I know. I don't know how to explain it. It's not that I don't want to include them. It's just, well, I really don't want to bother anyone with this."

"Bother?" she shrilled out in disbelief. There were times when her best friend was simply too stubborn for her own good. Honey wasn't having any of it. "Trixie Belden! There is no way I am going to hide what you have just told me and shown me while we try to stumble around in the dark and attempt to figure out who is doing this to you. Mark my words. It is not an option. We are going to seek help." She shook her finger in Trixie's startled face, daring her to disagree, and spoke to her like she was a three-year old, "Now I am going to get my brother and you are going to tell him all of it, whether you like it or not. No arguments, Trix." A ball of righteous fury, she turned on her heel only to whip her rigid body back around. "Don't even think about leaving this room," she warned firmly. Trixie could feel the heat of the glare from her normally even-tempered and serene partner. "I'll only find you and it will only make me madder."

"Do what you have to do," Trixie replied and gave in with an ungracious snort. Honey had read her mind correctly. It had been her plan to dash out of the room the second Honey left and go home. With that avenue of escape effectively taken away from her, she crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes, needing to mentally prepare herself for the next few minutes. Jim was not going to be pleased. Hating the fact that so much was spiraling out beyond her control, she slumped back on the edge of the bed and dropped her head into her hands. She absolutely despised being the center of attention, especially when it involved something so sinister, but she realized that Honey was right. She wasn't equipped to handle the situation on her own. She needed help, whether she wanted to admit it or not.


	20. Chapter 19

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Nineteen

Her righteous anger, brought on by the strange happenings to her friend as well as Trixie's stubborn refusal to share with the others, gave her feet wings and took her swiftly across the hall. Giving one sharp knock on her brother's half-opened door, Honey rudely threw it open, without waiting for the requisite invitation to enter, and stalked into it. "Jim!" she yelled loudly, her voice sharp and shrill.

Reclining on his bed, he took off his headphones and stared at her in open-mouthed surprise. "Yeah, Honey?" he responded slowly, putting his iPod on his nightstand and rising to his feet, hands stuffed in the pockets of his blue jeans. There wasn't any way he could miss the agitated state she was in. Not used to seeing his normally calm, composed sister acting like this, he felt a frown settle on his lips and drew his eyebrows together, bewildered. "What can I do for you?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet and even, the way one would talk to a tantrumming child, while he tamped down on his growing curiosity.

She tapped her foot, ran an troubled hand through her sleek hair, and glared at him, making him feel like he had done something wrong. Her hazel eyes were thin slits of a thunderous rage he never thought she would be capable of. She struggled to find the necessary words, came up with nothing, and eventually sputtered out, "Come with me." She turned on her heel, not looking back, and assuming he would follow her. Her long strides ate up the carpet on the short distance between their bedrooms.

Left with no choice, he followed his sister, his steps carefully measured and slow compared to the speedy way she was crossing the hall and entering her bedroom. The second he stood in the doorway he felt his stomach drop to the floor as his curiosity turned into apprehension. He saw Trixie immediately, her head bent and her eyes downcast, with her hands folded demurely in her lap. The pose wasn't one he had ever seen her in. Forgetting his sister was even in the room, Jim strode past her and pulled the chair away from Honey's desk. He sat down in front of Trixie and frowned when she wouldn't meet his eyes. "Trixie."

She closed her eyes, not even having the energy to spare an irritated glance at Honey. "Jim," she responded softly, holding her hands together and dreading the coming minutes. It would only get worse, she realized with a sinking feeling of dismay. She tried to figure out how many times she was going to have to tell her story, hoping that she would get numb to it before it was all done and everyone knew.

Honey watched the two of them, nodded her head, and was pleased that she had made the right decision. Trixie may be angry with her but she would get over it. Forcing her into talking to Jim was for the best, whether Trixie wanted to admit it or not. He was very logical and would help them figure out the next step. About to interject herself into the scene, she heard Celia call out her name. "Excuse me," Honey muttered and left her room, keeping the door open, and went outside to meet Celia. Maybe leaving them alone would work out even better, she thought as she walked towards the maid. She knew the inner workings of Trixie's mind. It would be easier for her to talk with Jim if she was alone.

He didn't hear Honey or Celia or even notice her departure, too focused on Trixie. "Tell me what the problem is, Trixie," he urged her quietly. In the prolonged silence that followed his inquiry, he rapidly went through the few times they had spent together since his return home. Their ride his first morning home, the picnic on Sunday, and then the short amount of time they had spent together on Tuesday. There was nothing sticking out at him, other than their car ride to the Country Club. He ran through the conversation they had shared in his mind but couldn't come up with anything conclusive. He clamped down on the urge to touch her; afraid that if he did, she would crumble. She seemed so fragile, unlike her normally strong, invincible self. He was surprised that he was being clued in so soon and felt a rush of appreciation towards his sister, realizing that she had forced Trixie's rather unwilling hand.

Trixie stared at the floor, studying the complicated patterning of the thick and expensive carpeting until she knew it by heart. Her hands tangled in the material of the soft comforter underneath her, reflexively bunching and unbunching it, as she tried to dredge up the courage to tell him the awful truth. "Honey wants me to talk to you," she began lowly.

She forever had his gratitude but he didn't mention that. "I've gathered that much," he answered calmly despite the nerves that were gripping him. "It's rare to see her so forceful." And that worried him. Combined with Trixie's unusual silence, red flags were flying all over the place, blinding him to all but her. It generally took a little longer before either of them let him in on the mystery, if that was indeed what was going on. He still wasn't sure. He had to fight to keep the concern out of his eyes and instead plastered an unruffled expression on his face, deciding that would be the best way to get more of the story out of her.

"Well," Trixie began and stopped, looking for the right words and coming up with nothing. This was one of those times when she wished she had Mart's gift for gab. She twiddled her thumbs and was still unable to look at him. It was much more comfortable for her to see his feet. At least then she wouldn't have to see his face and the emotions she dreaded crossing over it. "I think I could be in trouble."

That didn't sound promising. He bit back a sigh and focused on her bent head. As much as he liked her curls, he would rather see her face. Reaching out, he placed a gentle finger under her chin and slowly lifted her face up. The hopelessness in her eyes nearly did him in. "Tell me, Trix." His words were soft and strong at the same time, exactly what she needed.

She saw the worry in the emerald green eyes staring back at her. It bothered her more than she could say that she was the cause of it. He wouldn't be the only worried one by the time it was all said and done, she realized fatalistically, shoulders drooping. Glen Road was going to be littered with concerned people. "It all began really small," she responded, her words halting and low. He had to lean forward to hear her. "I didn't think anything of it, not really, but then everything started to add up. I don't like the answer I've settled on. Honey has come up with the same one."

"She is very distressed," he remarked when Trixie came to a sudden stop and didn't continue on. She nodded, sending her curls bouncing in the way he liked the best, but he didn't take the time to appreciate it. "Tell me all of it, Trixie. I can help. We all can. Tell me."

"All right." She picked up the note and handed it over to him, glad that her hands didn't shake. "I found this in my backpack last Thursday, I guess. I'm thinking it must have been put in it when I left my backpack in the computer lab. I have no idea where it came from or who it could be from," she added quickly to avert his questions.

He read the words silently but didn't like them. "I take it this letter started it all," he deduced correctly.

"Yeah." She took a deep breath. "I didn't know what it could mean so I didn't let it bother me. It could have been a joke or a mistake or something much more serious." She hated being the victim. "After everything that has been happening to me, there really is only one thing it can be. It's not a joke or a mistake, Jim. It's serious."

The picture was forming brilliantly in his mind. It was repulsive and he did not appreciate it, not one little bit. "What are the other things that have been happening?" The need he felt to hear the rest of the facts was overwhelming.

"Like I said, it's all been relatively small. Nothing was overtly noticeable, until today. It was just enough to put me on edge but not make me scared, if you know what I mean." She appreciated the way he patiently let her ramble on. "Back to the incidents. I've received one hang-up on my cell phone a day, starting last Thursday. You even answered the one on Sunday, at our picnic."

He remembered now. It hadn't made an impression on him before. There had been a low, mumbled voice on the other end. "That's right." His handsome face fell into a frown. He had missed the implications, too.

Trixie rattled off the information about the hang-ups. "Each of the hang-ups have been from different phone numbers and all to my cell. I've never had one at home. Not one of them has ever come from the same phone number. And, when I've called them back, I keep getting the same recording. The numbers are all currently no longer in service." She shook her head, amazed at her obtuseness. Maybe if she had been more diligent, she would have caught on sooner.

An anonymous letter and hang-ups. He mentally created a list in his mind. "What else?" His voice was clipped as he waited for the next bit of information and his eyes narrowed.

"There is the scratch on my mother's car. It happened when I was in my meeting on Sunday at the Country Club." Trixie gave a small shiver. "I knew that it couldn't have been an accident the second I saw it but I didn't give it that much of a thought. I mean, who would deliberately do something like that? It's so petty and it made absolutely no sense to me. Then."

An anonymous letter, hang-ups on her cell, and a scratch. He really didn't like it now. Looking at the pale color of her cheeks, he carefully pushed her for more information. "Don't hold back, Trixie. I need to hear it all."

Trixie picked up a picture of the seven Bob-Whites on Honey's nightstand and absently traced the faces of her friends. "Well, I've had these odd feelings every now and then. You know my odd feelings, right?" Her giggle was nervous and almost unnatural. "I've had them before. Anyway, I've been getting these feelings every now and then, like someone is watching me. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I've never been able to find the source of it, though." She correctly guessed that he was going to ask where so she quickly filled him in before he could, "It's a few times. I've felt that way in school, at the Country Club, and that day at the lake, when we had our picnic."

He recalled vividly the moment she had moved closer to him, right when they were getting ready to leave, and wanted to kick himself for not looking further into it. Something had scared her. "And Di heard a strange noise by the clubhouse," he mused aloud, cursing inwardly that it had rained and he hadn't been able to investigate the area around the clubhouse for clues.

She brought her lips together and nodded. "Could be coincidence but, with the way my luck goes, I seriously doubt it," she said with a trace of sarcasm.

Everything she had told him was worrisome but not exactly conclusive. He could understand why she hadn't said anything before and wasn't sure if he really wanted to know what had blown the case wide open. He had to, though, for her sake. He listed what he knew so far. "So, Trixie, we have a note, hang-ups, a scratch on your mother's car, and feelings of being watched. There has to be more."

"I think the person must have been around the day we went for our ride, although I didn't feel watched that day." Probably because she was too ecstatic about spending time with him but she didn't share that. She gave a small grimace as she explained, "Honey and I kind of talked it over a few minutes ago. We don't know if whoever is behind all of this could have made me fall off of Susie or if they simply took advantage of the situation. I don't know."

Jim was starting to see red and had to reign in his fierce temper. She didn't need that right now. He had seen how close she had come to a very serious injury after Susie threw her. "How does the fall tie in with this?"

"I was a little preoccupied afterwards and forgot my hat, remember?" She shut her eyes, the only way she wouldn't be able to see his reaction to the most disturbing incident. The words came out on a rush. "I found my hat this afternoon in my locker. Someone had put it in there. It wasn't Honey and I seriously doubt it was you."

He drew back, letting a curse word fly out of his mouth that he very rarely ever said, causing her to open her eyes and stare at him in surprise. The situation called for it, and much more.

"I don't think I've ever heard you say that word," she noted, astonished. Swearing was very unusual for him.

He ignored her comment before he bit out savagely, "I went back to the bluffs and looked for your hat. I couldn't find it, Trixie. It wasn't there." Which meant that the person who had put it in her locker must have watched them together, witnessed her fall, and then taken her hat.

"Someone did and very thoughtfully returned it to me," she remarked sarcastically. "But that's still not all, Jim. Right after I found the hat in my locker, I received a text message. I haven't deleted it." She picked up her cell phone and handed it over to him. "Here it is."

"Do you like my present?" he grumbled angrily, the words mocking him. His face was now as red as his hair. "Dammit."

"Tell me about it." She slumped back, feeling the most defeated she had ever been, and rested her cheek in her hand. She didn't have anything else to say.

He didn't say anything. There weren't any words of comfort he could offer her. Something terrible was happening and he couldn't sugarcoat it for her, as much as he wanted to. Gritting his teeth, hoping to hold onto his temper, he fooled around with her cell phone, calling up all of her incoming calls. Thankful that she hadn't deleted them, he studied each number and the time each call came in. All New York numbers. And all different, just like she had said. "I'll bet we can get the police to trace the numbers," he spoke his thoughts aloud. "Maybe they will get some information that we wouldn't be able to."

The police. She wilted even more. The situation was well out of her control and she didn't like it. She had known this is what Jim would recommend but she still wasn't prepared for it. "I don't want to, Jim. I would much rather keep it between us. Do we have to go to the police?" she inquired plaintively.

He shut her phone and arched an eyebrow at her. "Do you really need me to answer that?" he replied instead and stared her down.

She swallowed another sigh. "I guess not." Swinging her legs, she dropped her chin, finding the carpet fascinating again, and fought against the sudden tears that were threatening to spill down her face.

He caught her hands, holding them loosely, and drew small circles on her hands with his thumbs to soothe her, hoping to take away the disappointment, fear and helplessness she was feeling, and desperately sorry that he had to force her into going to the police. "It'll be all right, Trix. You'll see. We've gotten through tougher situations than this before. You're not alone, you know that," he murmured, his voice steady and reassuring. "None of us is going to let anything happen to you."

She took a deep breath, struggling to calm herself, and released it slowly and deliberately. It didn't make her feel any better but it helped her find an answer to the reason why she felt so unlike herself. "I know, Jim, believe me, I know. I couldn't ask for better friends or family. I don't know how to explain it. I guess this one feels different, that's all."

Because it was aimed at her. He knew. It felt different to him, too. Normally she was willingly putting herself in the face of danger. It was quite a turn-around to have the danger coming after her, without warning. He squeezed her hands tighter and tried for some levity. "Hey, Trix, look at it this way. You've already got two bodyguards who have absolutely nothing to do for the next few weeks. Me and Brian would be glad to shadow your every movement. We can take shifts. I'm sure you would love it." He forced out a small laugh at her sarcastic snort and pressed on. "Can't you just see it? I'm sure we would blend into the woodwork beautifully with you at school and when you go to work. No one would even know we were there. You won't be able to shake us, either, since we know all your tricks. And I've heard from Honey that you have a very comfortable guest bed in your room."

"First of all, I don't need someone to watch over me like that. Second, neither you nor Brian would be let back in to the high school to attend classes with me. You can't attend classes you've already taken and the Country Club would certainly object to having either of you loitering around, looking tough. I would probably end up getting fired on the spot. And for the last part…" Her giggle was much more natural. She could picture her parents' reactions perfectly in her mind if she were to suggest that Jim were to spend the night in her room. She giggled again. It would be a priceless scene and almost worthy of witnessing. Almost. She wasn't dumb. "I can just see my parents' faces if you would try and talk them into spending the night in my room, Jim. I'm not sure what they would do to you but I wouldn't be surprised if it would involve my father, his shotgun and a hole out in the orchard."

He threaded his fingers through hers, holding on tighter, and felt happy with his success. His foolishness had worked. All he had wanted was to hear her laugh. "You never know, Trix. They may just let me when they hear about this."

She shook her head and laughed, still keeping her head down. "I highly doubt that, Jim." But she had to smile. He really was endearing.

Having finished the phone call from her parents, Honey came to a sudden pause in the open doorway and watched the scene in front of her. Her brother was still sitting in front of her friend, holding both of her hands, with an expression on his face she had never seen before. Why, he's in love with her, she thought with absolute delight. It was blatantly obvious. Forgetting the seriousness of the moment, she clasped her hands together and silently willed Trixie to look up. If she would only look into his face, she would have to see it. It couldn't be missed. Honey had to tamp down on the urge to jump up and down and slowly backed away from the door, wanting to give them a few more moments of privacy. Leaning against the wall outside of her room, she eavesdropped on her brother and best friend without the tiniest bit of guilt, a large smile on her face, and thought that at least something positive would come out of the newest debacle they found themselves in. A second Bob-White couple. How perfectly perfect.

Trixie's cell phone rang, interrupting them, and the moment they were so close to having together. They both jumped and turned as one to look at the offensive object. Jim dropped her hands and eyed the thing warily, guessing that it could be her first hang-up of the day. Trixie was thinking the same thing. The good mood he had managed to pull out of her dissipated at the sound and brought back his own anger. When she didn't make a move to answer it, he flipped it open, didn't check out the incoming number, and barked piercingly into the phone, "Who the hell is this?"

Silence on the other end, followed by a small, nervous, and all-too familiar chuckle. "Really, Jim, I think you need to work on your phone skills a bit."

A flush stole across his handsome face. "Sorry, Brian," he apologized contritely, meeting Trixie's overly large eyes. He was glad to see a bit of humor returning to her face and threw a lopsided grin at her when she covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. Distressed Trixie troubled him too much. It took him a minute to admit, "I wasn't thinking." There wasn't anything else he could offer for his rude greeting.

"I'll let that go for now," Brian answered slowly, his dark eyebrows drawn together. He didn't like Jim's tone or the fact that his friend was answering his sister's phone and felt something tug at him. "But you should be grateful that Moms or Dad weren't the ones calling. They wouldn't be pleased with you at all. If it had been Mart…well, let's just say that it would be a long time before you heard the end of it." He took a deep breath before asking the obvious, "Why are you answering Trixie's phone, anyway?"

Trixie begged him with her eyes to not say anything. He couldn't refuse her. Even though it went against his nature, the lie came easily. He would do it for her, especially if it would give her a brief reprieve. She had enough to deal with. "She left her phone downstairs, Brian. I think they are upstairs in Honey's room."

Brian reluctantly accepted it although he had a few questions that he needed answered the next time he saw Jim. Trixie wasn't the only Belden who could be suspicious. "All right. I'll buy that for now. I was calling to see if Trixie is coming home for dinner or if she's eating with you. She was supposed to call home to let Moms know by now. We already have Mart and Dan confirmed for dinner. Now we need to know about Trix. We're going to be eating soon."

He eyed Trixie closely. She was sitting on the edge of Honey's bed with her arms wrapped around her, as if that was the only way she could get warm. "She's staying here," he said decidedly with a little more force than necessary.

Brian shook his head, taken aback by Jim's voice and the entire conversation. "Okay, then, Jim. Since you're becoming her secretary, let her know that she shouldn't stay out too late. It's a school night and she's already on Moms' list for the way she left her room this morning."

"Will do." He hung up the phone without saying goodbye and took her arm. He helped her stand up and then announced, "I think we should find Honey and go down to the station right now. We need to see Sergeant Molinson."

"Won't he be happy to see us?" It galled her to admit it but he was right. "Yeah, you're right. I also think we're going to have to explain everything to Brian once we get back from the police station. I highly doubt that he believed anything that you just said."

"I can't help it that I'm a horrible liar." Jim gave a small shrug of his shoulder. "It's never come easy to me, you know that."

"That's why you're awful at poker." Trixie tried to joke and felt a bit better. His easy smile helped chase away her fears, if only for just a little bit, and it felt good to do something normal.

He appreciated the effort and informed her, realizing that it would be best to try and keep her overly active mind off of her troubles, "I spent a good part of Sunday afternoon playing blackjack with Dan in the stables. I suck at that game, too, in case you're interested."

He was rewarded with a full, beaming smile. "Yeah. Dan's our resident card shark. You should know better than to play against him. And now I know that I should never take you to Vegas or Atlantic City if I want to win any serious money." She collected her information and her cell phone, carefully repacking everything in her backpack, and then felt her recent good mood fade away. "Do we really need to go to the police station?" she asked, not really expecting an answer from him.

He didn't give her one. Instead, he grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. "It will all work out, Trix, you'll see," he spoke encouragingly, running his hands lightly up and down her arms. "You don't need to worry. We'll do it for you. I...well, I mean, none of us are going to let anything happen to you. You can take that to the bank."

"Let's go, then. We need to find Honey." She sent a curious glance around the room. "Where did she go, anywhere? The last time I saw her she was storming out of the room in search of you. She was frustrated with me because I didn't want to talk to you about my suspicions."

As if on cue, Honey stepped in the doorway. "I'm right here, guys!" she answered brightly, having heard everything they had said. Her sides hurt from choking back her laughter at Jim's reaction to Brian's phone call. It had been unexpected, hearing her normally put-together brother responding to Brian like the village idiot, and had almost had her howling with laughter. "For the record, I think Jim's right. The best thing we can do is go see Sergeant Molinson and fill him in on everything. I can't wait to see his reaction. Boy, won't he be surprised to be brought in at the beginning? Most of the time he doesn't know what's going on with us until the very end."

They walked down the hallway together, a formidable unit in the face of the unexpected danger surrounding them. "He might take it better if either of you do all the talking," Trixie suggested as they went down the stairs. "I'm not one of his favorite people."

"You're right about that," Jim agreed quickly. "But you're going to have to be the one to tell him. He's going to want to hear it from you. I'm curious to see what he will want to do about our situation. "

Trixie colored at the way he easily said 'our situation' and turned her head away so that he wouldn't see her blush. She had been foolish to not want to tell him, she realized with a start. Of course, he would want to be involved. Of course, he would want to help her solve it. And, of course, he would consider himself a vital part of it, just like the rest of the Bob-Whites would when they told them. Sergeant Molinson needed to be faced first. Then they would meet with everyone else. "Let's get this over with," she said as they headed out the door and into the early spring evening.


	21. Chapter 20

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Twenty

Trixie couldn't miss the fact that Honey shot ahead of them and nonchalantly climbed into the backseat, leaving the front seat for her. Giving her friend a scowl, she opened the passenger side door and got in next to Jim. He started up the Pathfinder and they were soon on their way to the police station, none of them the least bit hungry. "Do you think I should have talked to my parents first?" Trixie chewed on her bottom lip, worried that her family may be angry at her for not coming to them first. She eyed the turnoff to Crabapple Farm, despising the small strain of guilt that she felt, and squirmed in her seat.

From the backseat, Honey shook her head. "They aren't going to be happy anyway, Trix, whether we stop in and tell them now or later. In fact, I think that it'll be better in the long run to go to the police station first. At least you'll be able to tell them that we have already talked to Sergeant Molinson and we can share his suggestions. That will help them feel a bit better, I'm sure, and may bring some reassurance to them."

"So we'll plan on hitting Crabapple Farm after the police station." Ever a detail man, Jim appreciated a good, solid plan. He grimaced when he recalled his phone call with Brian a few minutes earlier, embarrassed by the way he had responded to his best friend, and had to clear his throat. At least it wouldn't be much longer before Brian understood why he had sounded so ridiculous on the phone. "When I talked to Brian, he said that Mart and Dan would be over for dinner. Depending on how long it takes us with Sergeant Molinson, we should be able to get back in time to have nearly all the Bob-Whites in attendance."

"That's good. Almost everyone will know, then. We'll only have to tell the story a few more times." Honey thought of the one missing Bob-White. Poor Di. It seemed like she missed out on so many of their happenings. "Di won't be there, though. It's her turn to fill in as a receptionist at the Club so we'll have to tell her later. She won't be able to leave until nine o'clock. That'll be too late for her to stop by on a school night. Maybe we'll have Mart explain it all to her," Honey put in with a mischievous twinkle to her hazel eyes.

Jim could feel the undercurrents coming from his sister. "What's going on, Honey? Obviously there's something else going on that I've missed," he inquired mildly, keeping an eye on her in the rearview mirror as he turned off of Glen Road and onto one of the main streets of the small town of Sleepyside.

"They're going to the prom together," Honey informed him with a small laugh. She moved forward as far as her seatbelt would allow and explained, her eyes sparkling, and pathetically grateful to be talking about something fun and exciting, "Di asked him last night, when they were all at the Country Club visiting Trixie. She's thrilled about it. I don't think she stopped smiling all day."

"Good for Di." He lifted his eyebrows, imagining that Mart was just as thrilled. About to ask Trixie what she thought about it, he slid a glance her, saw how she was now staring out the window and not paying the least bit of attention to their conversation, and wondered what she was thinking about.

Trixie's mind was far away, certainly not on anything as mundane as the upcoming dance or her brother's burgeoning love life. She started to trace circles on the smooth pane of the window, feeling more and more nervous the closer they got to the police station. Maybe Sergeant Molinson wouldn't be there, she thought with a small ray of hope. Maybe she would be able to talk to another police officer, one who she did not have such a complicated history with. Maybe…she gave up. Her luck sucked.

It wasn't too long before they were pulling into the parking lot. Jim stepped out of the car, shaded his eyes against the late afternoon sun, and scanned the area. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Just a few cars passing by on the road. He turned as the girls joined him and motioned for them to go first. "I'll follow you."

Trixie was assaulted by a feeling of déjà vu as she entered the quiet police station. It was still the same. There was a long, low counter where the dispatcher sat, ready to take calls and reports from anyone who should happen to enter the station. Behind the counter were individual desks with computers resting on them, for the officers who would need to enter their reports. The room was lit with harsh, overhead lighting. In all, it wasn't the most welcoming place in the entire world. But it didn't need to be. It was a police station, after all.

She counted the many different times she had been in the place, starting with the first time she had been there that long ago night, with Mart by her side and in her pajamas. Sergeant Molinson hadn't been a sergeant then. He had been a regular police officer and much more approachable. She could remember referring to him as "Mr. Molinson" and bit back a small, hysterical giggle that had both Honey and Jim looking at her in concern.

"Can I help you?" Melanie Frankson, the civilian who worked as one of the station's dispatchers, asked from behind the counter, her hand on the phone, ready to answer it if a call should come in. She hid a chuckle, as did the other two police officers who were efficiently entering reports at the desks. The small group was well-known among the employees of the station. She could only imagine how the sergeant would feel when he realized the identity of his visitors.

Trixie swallowed and moved forward, needing to take responsibility for their visit. "We need to speak with the sergeant, if he's still here," she added as an after-thought.

"Oh, he's still here." She could barely keep the amusement out of her eyes. "I'll call him for you." And she did just that, her voice gleeful as she informed Sergeant Molinson that some civilians needed to talk to him.

A few seconds later, Sergeant Molinson stepped out of his office in the back of the station, came to an immediate halt, put his hands on his hips, sent a long-suffering glare up at the ceiling, and mumbled something unintelligible to the others around him. Clearly not excited about seeing them, he turned around and headed back into his office, barely resisting the urge to slam the door behind him; all without saying a single word.

"I guess we should follow him," Honey whispered, taken aback by his rude reception. Jim hadn't expected anything better. He went first, with the two girls trailing slowly behind him. The officers had to smother grins at the sight and felt immediate sympathy for their sergeant. They shared furtive glances with each other and stared at the closed door, pondering what the group could have gotten themselves involved with now.

Sergeant Molinson sat down in his chair, an unpleasant scowl on his face, and motioned for them to take a seat. All he wanted to do was go home, kick back and relax in his comfortable recliner, and heat up his favorite frozen dinner, with the latest ballgame on his television. Only minutes away from doing just that, he had received the dreaded phone call, telling him that he had visitors, and it had put him in a foul mood. "All right, what is it this time?" he grumbled out, then held up his hand to stop the expected torrent of words. "Wait, let me guess. You've found out that there is a set of bank robbers camping out in the preserve. Or maybe we have a ring of international jewel thieves working out of Hawthorne Street. Or could there be a car-jacking unit starting up on our normally quiet Main Street? With you and your club, the possibilities are endless."

The three gingerly sat down in the plastic chairs in front of his desk and shared silent looks of sympathy with each other. It was worse than she thought. Gaining strength from the presence of her friends, Trixie leaned forward and shook her head. "No, sir," she responded respectfully. "I'm afraid we're here for help."

He narrowed his eyes, his police instincts kicking in, and attempted to puzzle out what was wrong. Trixie wasn't filled with the normal energy or impatience that usually radiated off of her in waves. Instead, she seemed quiet, withdrawn, and cautious, which was a word he never thought he would use to describe her. Sparing a cursory glance at the other two who were flanking her, as if to protect her, and also offering support, he sat up. On immediate alert, he changed his tactics and went from antagonistic to accommodating in the blink of an eye. "How can I help you?"

Trixie stared first at Honey, who gave her an encouraging nod, then at Jim, who gave her a reassuring squeeze on her hand, and took a deep breath before starting, "Well, you may find this hard to believe but I think I could use some guidance. The three of us have talked it over and have come to the conclusion that it would be best to seek your advice." She reached into her backpack, missed the way his eyebrows shot up and pulled out two pieces of paper and her cell phone. "I know this isn't very professional-looking but it serves its purpose," she added apologetically, wishing she had thought to prepare a better copy of her chart for him.

He took the piece of paper curiously, his lips twitching in amusement at the dog-eared edges and the wrinkles. But then his amusement faded as he read the contents and he swallowed a sigh. Unfortunately, he wasn't shocked by what he saw. The girl had a list of enemies a mile long. "Got it," he said gruffly, laid it on his desk, and gave his dinner a fond thought. It would be awhile before he would be able to eat it. "Anything else?"

She handed over the note next. It, too, was wrinkled and not in the best of shape. She was surprised when he didn't make a comment about it, either. "I found this in my backpack last Thursday. I'm not sure when it was put in there but I think it was probably when I was in the computer lab, right at the end of the school day on Wednesday. That's the only time I can think of when my backpack was unattended. But I can't say for sure. I didn't see the note until the following morning."

There wouldn't be the foggiest chance of getting fingerprints off of it now, he thought to himself. His voice came out in clipped tones. "Envelope?"

She shook her head again. "I don't know where it is. I didn't keep it. I guess I didn't think it was that important."

"I doubt we would have been able to find anything from it, anyway," he interjected, earning another surprised look from her when he didn't rebuke her for losing evidence. He leaned back in his seat, steepled his hands under his chin, and prompted for more, "Everything you've shown me is a little flimsy right now, Miss Belden, not that I don't doubt that there is something mysterious going on. What else have you got?"

It was hard but she met his sharp gaze and kept it, slightly astonished to realize that he was staring at her without his usual sternness and with compassion. He believed her. Completely and totally. That realization helped her find the strength to share the latest with him. "I lost a baseball hat the other day, out on the bluffs by the river. I saw it for the first time today. Someone had put into my locker." Then she pulled out her cell and showed him the text message. "I got this right after I found it."

That would do it. He had all the information he needed and squelched a strain of sympathy for the young woman. She didn't need that from him. She needed his competence. "I see," he responded soberly and jotted the information down on her chart. He took the phone from her, searched through it for the different phone numbers, concentrating on it in silence. Quickly coming to the same conclusion about the phone numbers that she had already made, he muttered, more to himself than the others in the room, "I doubt we'll find out too much from these. Most likely the calls were made from prepaid phones."

Trixie believed so, too, but held her tongue for once. She sat perfectly still while waiting for his reaction and caught Honey out of the corner of her eye. Trixie gave her a small, comforting smile. Beginning to feel better now that she was being proactive instead of acting like the victim, she inched closer and observed the sergeant closely, wanting to know exactly how he would proceed with the information that she had given him, her blue eyes taken on the inquisitive gleam that her friends knew so well.

Jim caught the change in her immediately and felt pride for her swell within him. His worry had not only steamed from the circumstances around her but also from the way she had reacted. The inner spark that drove her had been missing. He sent up an inner prayer of relief that his special girl was returning back to herself. The ends of his lips pulled up while he waited to see her reaction to Sergeant Molinson's suggestions.

Squinting his eyes at the papers in front of him, almost forgetting that he had guests in his small office, Sergeant Molinson stood up and strode over to the row of filing cabinets that lined one of his walls. Leaning down, he opened the bottom drawer, pulled out two large files, and carried them over to his desk. They made a loud sound when he dropped them on top of it.

"What's in those?" Honey asked timidly, finding her voice. She never liked talking with the sergeant, preferred to have Trixie or another Bob-White talk for her. It could have been his uniform or his gruff demeanor. Whatever the reason, she found him too intimidating.

"Work for one of my rookies," he replied dryly. "There are two new officers to the force who need to be indoctrinated into the workings of our favorite sleuth and her gang."

Intrigued, Trixie cocked her head and read her name on the top of one of the folders. Her fingers itched to touch the contents. She had to sit on them to resist the urge to reach across the desk and do just that. Practically dying of curiosity, she gave him an expectant look and silently urged him on.

"I wouldn't be surprised if we find the culprit in one of these folders," he answered her unspoken question easily and sat back in his chair. "We started keeping track of your 'activities', for lack of a better word, soon after you and your club started your dangerous habit of seeking and catching criminals while the rest of the normal teenage population prefers to hang out at the malls. I was given the task of keeping up with you once I made sergeant." He held up the first folder, which was stuffed to the brim. It had been rubber-banded to keep papers from falling out. "This first folder has copies of all the police reports of the criminals that you've helped put away here, in Sleepyside. The other folder includes the reports and the names of the people you've taken on outside of my jurisdiction."

Jim let out a low whistle of appreciation. He hadn't realized that there would be so much proof of the work that she had spearheaded. "I've been present for most of them and I'm still surprised to see how many there."

"Your resume is very impressive," he acknowledged, surprising Trixie even further. Words of praise were not that plentiful from him. He continued on quickly, not wanting to encourage her in her seemingly endless quest to put criminals behind bars, "As I said before, it wouldn't surprise me at all if the culprit is here. Now, I'll have a rookie start going through the folders tomorrow morning. She'll check up on all of the convicts. Then we'll see which ones are still in jail, which ones have served their time and have been released, and if any of them are out on parole. We can start crossing names off the list and see what we have left."

"That sounds like a good idea." Trixie knew better than to push her luck. She couldn't believe the sergeant was taking her seriously, for once, and was actually including her in on the plans. Not only including her but talking to her almost like an equal. She found herself to be in complete agreement with him.

"I'll need to keep your cell phone, too," he added. He held up the item to show it to her. "We'll check into the numbers, find out for sure where they came from. Even if they are prepaid phones, we should at the very least be able to find out where they were purchased and start our search from there. I'll also get in touch with the cell phone companies and get the pings from the cell towers that was used. I wouldn't be at all surprised if there's a correlation between the purchases and someone in your folders."

Trixie opened her mouth but then closed it as he answered her next question, "And I'll send one of the officers over to the high school after you leave. He'll dust your locker for fingerprints and also your hat. We'll have to keep your hat for evidence, too. I'll make sure that the superintendent and your principal keeps it quiet. There's no need for the entire population of Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School to know about this."

She shivered at the possible repercussions should the gossip mill get a hold of the information. She would prefer not to be fodder for it. "Thanks, Sergeant Molinson."

"Now, you need to know that we may get lucky with a partial or a full fingerprint. However, real-life police work is not like the ones that are currently portrayed on television or in the movies but you are probably more aware of that than the general public. The chances of a positive result happening from a fingerprint are very slim," he put in warningly.

"Any words of advice?" Jim asked after a small moment of silence as the three digested the pile of information that the sergeant had shared with them.

Sergeant Molinson put his hands on his desk, bent across it, and stared into the young man's serious face, ignoring the two girls for the moment. "I'll tell you, since you seem to have more influence on her than I do. Make sure she is not alone, even in a public place. Keep doors and windows locked. Tell her friends and family so that they can keep their eyes and ears open, too. Let me know right away if she gets contacted through any means, such as another note, phone call, email, or anything along that lines. Most importantly, call the station if there is even the slightest thing that appears to be out of the ordinary. I promise I won't complain if I have to send my officers on a wild-goose chase. I would much rather be safe than sorry." Then he swung his head and focused intently at Trixie, waiting until she stared back at him, and shook his finger at her for good measure. "This may be the hardest one for you to follow, young lady. Do not do anything on your own, Miss Belden. And I mean anything. If you suspect something is not right, you need to get to a safe place right away. Do not go in search of trouble. Keep yourself safe. Got it?"

She hated to admit it, especially when it went against her very nature, but he was right. "Yes, sir," she answered meekly, forcing herself to meet the eyes that were piercing straight through her.

He waited a minute, stared her down, and then reiterated, "We'll get started on this right away. Like I said, I'll contact the superintendent and get an officer into the school within the next hour. Tomorrow morning, we'll start pawing through your files and searching for any potential suspects, as well as researching the phone numbers." He held up his hand when Trixie looked ready to ask another question. "I know what you're going to ask. I'll get in touch with _your parents_ the second we find out anything. They will share it with you."

Just then her cell phone sent out a bleep, announcing that she had received a text message. Without waiting for permission, the sergeant flipped it open and read the message, schooling his features and being careful not to let any of the other inhabitants in the room get a good look at the screen. His eyes went dark but he didn't share the message with them.

"What does it say?" Trixie wanted to know, lifting her head in an attempt to get a better view.

"You really don't want to know," he told her calmly and placed the phone on his desk, intentionally keeping it out of her line of sight. "Now, I'm making an assumption here. You are on your way home to tell your parents everything, right? I'"

"That's next on the agenda," Trixie answered, dying to know the words that were on her phone but unable to see it. The phone was too far away from her. "We're heading home next. We're going to tell everyone the story there."

Jim stood up, gave a long stretch, and unobtrusively craned his neck. Skilled at reading upside down from his time as a practicum student in different elementary classrooms, he saw the message and felt his face flush with impotent fury. "The police can't help you," the short message mocked back at him. How the stalker knew where they were was beyond him. His eyes met the sergeant's briefly and a silent look of understanding flashed between them that the girls missed. His eyes narrowed, telling the sergeant without words that he would watch over her.

"To recap," Sergeant Molinson repeated, hoping that the more times he said it, the more likely it would sink into her stubborn brain, "don't ever go anywhere alone, stay in contact with your friends and family, and report anything that could remotely be called 'suspicious.' Do you understand, ladies?"

Honey and Trixie looked at each other and then gave twin nods of agreement. "I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that we will not be searching out the person responsible," Honey informed him with absolute confidence. "This is one time when I firmly believe we do not need to give the police a helping hand." She held onto Trixie's hand and squeezed it to take the sting out of her next words. "I'll personally make sure that someone doesn't go off on her own."

"When do you leave for St. John's, anyway?" Sergeant Molinson inquired as the threesome prepared to leave.

Startled by the abrupt change in conversation, Trixie paused from picking up her backpack and had to think before answering, "Middle of August. Once I graduate from high school, of course."

He jotted down the information on the front of her folder, looking forward to that date more than he thought possible. Maybe he'd actually be able to get some peace. That is, until her breaks home from college. "I have a few good friends in the NYPD. I'll make sure to let them know that you and Miss Wheeler will be entering their vicinity." He flashed a grin, revealing his even white teeth, before taking all three of them aback. "I think they'll appreciate the warning that two of Sleepyside's finest will be taking up residence there."

Honey and Trixie stared at each other and turned the same shade of pink, unsure if they should be flattered or insulted by the sergeant. "Thank you for seeing us," Honey said after a minute. "We really do appreciate it."

"I'll be in touch, hopefully sooner than later." He walked them to the door and opened it. "Get home safely."

Trixie was the last one to leave. Her hand on the doorframe, she paused for a minute and caught the worried expression on the sergeant's face before he quickly masked it. "I'll do my best to keep out of trouble," she told him before slipping away. It was the best she could do. She didn't want to make a promise she couldn't keep.

That didn't help him. He dropped back in his chair and stared at the newest message. Feeling better after muttering a string of dirty and inventive curse words, he pulled the phone towards him and started dialing. It looked like his dinner was going to have to wait a while longer.

* * *

Note:  
I was surprised about a year ago when I reread #4 and found out that Molinson was a regular police office and not a sergeant…I'm not sure when he's first referred to as a sergeant. I found it interesting. That's where I got his work history for this chapter, in case anyone is wondering!


	22. Chapter 21

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Twenty-One

The heavy glass door closed behind them, blocking off the sounds of the relatively quiet police station, and bringing them into the world of Sleepyside again. They stepped out into the golden rays of the late afternoon sun and followed the uneven sidewalk to the parking lot. Honey intentionally slowed down her pace to match her friend's. They lagged a few steps behind Jim, who led the way with an alert expression on his handsome face. Honey threaded her arm through Trixie's and felt more relaxed than she had all afternoon. "You look…happier," she decided haltingly after studying the changes in her friend's attitude.

Trixie stopped and smiled at Honey, an honest, normal, and happy smile, surprisingly relieved and not nearly as frightened as she had been only a few hours earlier. "I feel different now." Her wide smile took in both Jim and Honey and reached the deep blue of her eyes, making them sparkle in the way that they should. "I don't know how to explain it, but, now that I know I'm not going crazy and that I have a lot people who know what's going on and are ready to support me, I don't feel as scared or as worried anymore."

"It also helps that you're doing something about it. Admitting you need to help to Sergeant Molinson was a very big step." He remembered how she had seemed to shed the cocoon the actions of the stalker had placed her in and transformed back into herself during the conversation in the sergeant's office. Trixie wasn't Trixie unless she was being proactive, even if the only course she had available to herself was to be on constant alert for anything unusual, he noted to himself with his usual insightfulness. He beeped his car opened and waited for Trixie and Honey to resume their seats before scanning the area one last time and climbing inside himself.

"You are exactly right!" Trixie exclaimed with a small chuckle at her own expense. It felt good to know that Jim knew her so well. "Part of me would love to start searching out clues and put an end to this myself but," she added hastily when she was on the receiving end of two very strong glares and held up her hand to stop the flood of forceful words already heading her way, "I'm smart enough to know that there's not much I can do about it. I don't have the resources to fingerprint anything. I certainly don't have the ability to check into cell phone numbers, either, or track down where they were purchased. So, unless I suddenly wake up in the morning with a CSI kit in my possession or contacts with the FBI, this is one case I'm going to have to sit out on the sidelines."

Honey was eyeing her friend warily, uncertain if she really believed Trixie or not. She sounded genuine and looked sincere but Honey couldn't be sure. And she wouldn't put it past Trixie to do some type of investigating, no matter how big or small it could be. Deciding then and there to spend as much time with Trixie as possible, she hoped that she would be able to curb her friend's nearly insatiable appetite when it came to a mystery. This one had the potential to be more dangerous than the others. Changing the subject abruptly, not wanting to call attention to her new suspicious train of thought, she inquired quickly, "Do you know what you're going to say to your parents?"

"We didn't spend all that long at the station. Everyone should be at the Farm," she hedged, not looking forward to the coming minutes at all, and clasped her hands together tightly. Unable to make a prediction on how her family was going to react, Trixie bent her head and stared at the dark gray floor mat, not surprised that there wasn't one ounce of dirt on it. Leave it to Jim to be so efficiently tidy, she thought to herself. "I guess I'll have to start at the beginning. Again," she muttered after a long minute of silence. "At least it should be the last time I have to go through everything. I'm grateful for that. I swear I could recite it in my sleep now."

"You will do fine," Honey encouraged her. Reaching over the console, she touched Trixie's arm and continued soothingly, "Like I said earlier, I doubt if your parents will be mad at you for telling them last. I don't think that they will care. They'll appreciate the fact that you have already made contact with Sergeant Molinson and have started things rolling in a more positive direction. In fact, I think they will be impressed that you made the decision to speak with him. It will help out a lot, too, when you share with them what Sergeant Molinson told us."

It wasn't her parents that were bothering her overly much. They were going to be concerned, worried, and frightened, no matter when she told them. She figured she would be lucky if they would let her leave the house before the whole mess was settled. Then she thought about her older brothers and grimaced. They were the ones most likely not to be pleased with the order of events. They would probably be able to understand her decision to tell Honey first. They may be able to see that she didn't have much of a choice about sharing her troubles with Jim. But she highly doubted if they were going to be ecstatic about being told fourth, after Sergeant Molinson. Heaving a sigh, all she could do was sit back and mentally prepare herself. It was beyond her control to change the sequence of events now. Hopefully they wouldn't mind overly much that they were brought in at the very end.

Jim listened to the quiet conversation between the two, not contributing anything to it, and kept his attention focused on the road in front of him. Gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary, tight enough to make his knuckles turn white, the events of the past two hours worked their way through his mind. The latest text message kept flashing before his eyes, taunting him and giving him that empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't like it, couldn't' stand what was happening to his special girl, and prayed that it would all come to an end soon. He sent an approving look towards her, seeing how animated she had become since their trip to the station. Except for the dark circles under her eyes, she resembled her regular wonderful self; impetuous, strong, and fearless. He made a decision to not tell her the contents of the text, should she ask him about it, but figured he would clue the male members in. Maybe it was chauvinistic of him but he figured he had the right to be that way.

"Here we are," Honey sang out with forced gaiety as they turned onto Belden driveway. She glanced at her watch and said, astonished that it wasn't later, "It's only six-thirty. Your family has probably only recently finished up dinner."

"That means Dan should still be here," Trixie replied, hoping he hadn't left. "At least, I hope he is. After the next few minutes, I am not telling this story again. Ever. I am done with it."

"Dan's still here," Jim said, saying his first words since he had started driving, and pointed to the truck sitting next to Mart's car. He saw that Brian's old jalopy was out of the barn and also in the parking lot, which meant that he must have been able to get the vehicle working again. Since room was limited in the driveway, he pulled up behind it. It seemed the most likely vehicle that would not need to leave during the evening.

Trixie got out of the car and stood, looking at her comfortable home, and felt a small strain of reluctance overtake her. It wasn't that she was scared to tell her family. It was the fact that she didn't want to scare them. She knew they would be by her story. They would be terrified and they would be filled with anger that couldn't be displaced. Her feet almost seemed rooted to the ground. The cheerful sounds of her family and Dan in the backyard floated back to them. They sounded so relaxed and normal. She didn't want to bring it to an end. "They must have had a cook-out," she concluded.

Jim rounded the hood and peered into her eyes. She couldn't disguise the reluctance or the guilt from him. Somehow he knew that this one would be the hardest for Trixie. She hated worrying friends but she absolutely despised upsetting her parents. "Are you ready to go tell them?" he questioned, keeping his voice low, soft and comforting. He didn't want to put any more stress on her. "By now I know the story as well as you. I can always tell them, if you want."

Trixie surprised him by grinning back. It felt amazingly good to not be ruled by fear alone anymore. The fear was still there, lying underneath her but not overwhelming her. She could fight it back, as long as she had her friends standing with her. "That's a nice offer, Jim. I would have taken you up on it, earlier today. But I'll be okay. It's not that I don't want to tell them. It's more the fact that I don't want to see the expressions on their faces afterwards. That's the part that's scaring me a bit," she shared with a small shiver.

Unable to resist, he tugged on the blonde curl that hung over her forehead and sent it spiraling back into its rightful spot. The easy touch didn't satisfy him. His fingers itched for more contact but h had to settle for stuffing his hands in his pockets. "We'll be there to help, Trix, should you need it."

"Aren't you always?" she mumbled rhetorically but with a clear meaning shining brightly in her eyes.

Honey watched the brief interplay with interest. Now that she knew where her brother's feelings lay, plus having the extra advantage of knowing all about Trixie's, she only wished that one of them would take the next step forward. Arching a single eyebrow, she decided then and there that she would have to get the two of them together as much as possible. There was nothing wrong with a little conspiracy, she realized with a sly smile, especially when the outcome would be so delightful.

Trixie caught Honey watching them, frowned at the odd smile on her face, and then cleared her throat. For a moment it had felt to her as if she and Jim were the only two people in the world. Trying to think of anything to say that wouldn't make her feel embarrassed or bring out the cursed red pigment she had been so generously blessed with at birth, Trixie said, her words tripping over themselves in her hurry to get them out, "I only hope my parents don't decide to keep me locked in my room until it's all resolved. I want to keep doing everything I have been doing." She fervently hoped that they wouldn't curb her activities too much.

"I hope not!" Honey exclaimed with an exaggerated shudder and stepped forward to join them. "That wouldn't be any fun at all." And it would certainly put a damper on her decision to throw the two of them together whenever possible. She threaded her arm through Trixie's. "We'll let them know. Then, afterwards, we can all have dinner. I don't know about the two of you but now that we've been to the police station, I am starved."

Trixie giggled, grateful to have such terrific friends. She gave Honey an impulsive hug. "I'm finally hungry, too. I don't think I ate anything at all today."

Jim let the two of them lead the way around the charming farmhouse and to the terrace in the backyard, where all the sounds of merriment were coming from. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, his mind again wandered back to all of the events Trixie had told him about. "They aren't going to like this at all," he whispered to himself.

"Hey, Trix!" Mart called out the second they rounded the corner. He held up his hand and waved. "It's about time. You've missed out on all the food." Then he saw Honey and Jim. "Hey, you brought company, too!"

About to open his mouth, Dan caught the rigid way Jim was holding his body, and placed his can of soda on the edge of the low terrace wall with a smart snap. Frowning, his senses on immediate alert, he wondered what could have happened to the silent group of three coming their way. From the way Jim kept staring at Trixie, almost as if he was trying to infuse some of his strength to her, it wasn't too hard to figure out who the victim was. He gave a small shake of his dark head, his good mood evaporating.

Honey brushed aside a stray piece of her honey-colored hair and felt a small stain of color splash her cheeks when Brian smiled a greeting at her. She came to a sudden halt next to him and tried not to stare. It was the first time she had seen him since the winter break. He looked wonderful but awfully tired, she noted quickly before dropping her gaze and focusing on the picnic table. "Hello, Brian," she finally uttered, unable to think of anything charming or witty to say in its place.

He wouldn't have wanted charming or witty anyway. "Honey," he replied in his normally quiet way. "How have you been?"

She felt a small, nervous giggle rush past her lips. "It won't be too long before you find out," she informed him cryptically.

He narrowed his dark eyes and moved a little closer, suspicious. "What do you mean by that?" he inquired before glancing at Trixie. He choked back a worried gasp when he saw the expression on his sister's face and turned back to face Honey.

Honey pointed to Trixie, refusing to answer the question on his face. "You'd better listen to your sister, Brian," she ordered him lowly. "She has something that she needs to tell you."

Holding her hands together, keeping her body as still as possible, Trixie looked at the scene in front of her and felt a regretful tug on her heart. A picturesque backyard barbeque; a normal, everyday slice of life; and one that was going to be blown apart by the recent events she had absolutely no control over.

Her mom and dad were standing a little off to the side, giving the young people in their midst their own space, talking quietly and looking like the solid unit that they were. Reddy, the ever present canine member of the family was sprawled under the picnic table, fast asleep, most likely sleeping off the scraps of food he had been food. Mart was the only one sitting at the picnic table, busy stuffing something that resembled macaroni and cheese into his mouth, unconcerned and as carefree as ever. Brian and Dan were the only ones who seemed to be clued in that there was something abnormal going on. Both were staring at her openly, with identical expressions of dread on their faces. How they could tell it was bad was beyond her capabilities. She bit her lip, searching for the words to begin, but couldn't find any. She couldn't bring herself to begin.

"It'll be all right," Jim mumbled quietly behind her, always her pillar of strength. He rested his hand lightly on her back. "I'm here for you."

"Believe me, I know." She gave him a grateful smile and breathed in deeply. How he always seemed to know what she needed was beyond her. It was gift she would never take for granted. "I hate to do it, though. They all seem so happy, Jim."

"Not Brian and Dan. At least, not anymore," he amended as the two continued to stare at them, impatiently waiting for the other shoe to be dropped. "They know something's up, Trix. You're going to have to put them out of their misery."

She met a pair of intense emerald green eyes and felt something inside of her hitch almost painfully in response. There was something different in them, something she had never seen before. She wasn't able to quite put her finger on but it was calling out for her. She simply had no clue what it could mean. "I, ah, guess it's now or never," she said, her voice shaking, but not from nerves.

Jim took a step closer but dropped his hand from her back. He doubted if her parents would appreciate that. "You can do it, Trixie," he encouraged her. "Trust in yourself."

And she did. Taking a deep breath, calling on her supply of courage, she asked for everyone's attention, proud that her voice didn't tremble too much and bravely kept her eyes on the curious people in front of her. After getting it, she slowly, carefully, and methodically went through it all, starting with the anonymous note she had received a week ago and ending with her recent trip to the police station and Sergeant Molinson's suggestions. She ran an agitated hand through her curls, turning them into a riotous mess, and prepared for their reactions, doubting it would be a pretty one.

Her parents, Brian, Mart and Dan stared at her in varying stages of shock when she came to the end of her story. Silence rang through the terrace that only moments ago had been a scene of normal backyard fun. "You have got to be kidding me!" finally exploded out of Mart, breaking the overwhelming silence. Honey jumped, startled by his outburst. Mart dropped his fork to the table with a clatter and crossed his arms over his chest as a heavy frown settled on his red face. He was not amused.

Brian didn't say anything. He felt the peace he had only been experiencing for the last day disappear into the background and leaned back against the low wall of the terrace. Finally understanding why his friend had been rude during his phone call, he shared a look with Jim and gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Then he looked at Honey, who was standing near him. She had gone pale during the retelling of the story and her face had taken on a haunted look. Almost as if it had a mind of its own, his hand reached out and clasped hers, the only form of support that he could give her now. She held on just as tightly.

Dan tucked his hands into his pockets, his dark eyes taking on an even more serious look. He immediately started glancing around the picture perfect yard, almost as if he expected the stalker to have the audacity to jump out at them right then and there. He bit back an ugly curse that they hadn't been able to find the source of the noise near the clubhouse or any signs of an intruder. Odds were good that it had been the stalker. It was too damn coincidental. He inched a little closer to Trixie and Honey and said, his dark eyes flashing with impotent anger, "I can't believe we were only joking a few days ago about how quiet it's been here." That quiet had been viciously ripped apart, beyond all of their control.

Peter and Helen were absolutely white and absolutely terrified. He had his arm around his wife, offering her support. Neither were able to form words or to ask the seemingly endless supply of questions rolling around in their minds. They were frozen to their spots, with horrified eyes resting on their daughter.

Trixie went to her parents first and took both their cold hands in hers. "Don't worry," she murmured, wanting to reassure them. "It'll all work out. You'll see. Nothing's going to happen to me or to anyone else, not with the Bob-Whites behind me and Sergeant Molinson on the case. You know that."

Spurred into action by her words, Peter pulled her into a strong embrace, almost as if he believed that the harder he hugged her, the more he could protect her. "I wish we did," he whispered hoarsely back. He closed his eyes and fervently prayed he could prevent it all from happening. His dark eyes, normally open and warm, took on a sinister gleam while he hoped that he had the pleasure of running into the person responsible for turning their lives upside down. He imagined all types of painful things he would like to do to the person without any guilt whatsoever.

Helen ran her hands over Trixie's curls, smoothing them out, much as she did when Trixie had been a little girl, and valiantly fought for control. She didn't want to lose it, not in front of her children. Knowing that she was close to doing just that, she didn't say a word. Instead, she held on to her little girl and gave her a comforting kiss on her forehead.

"What are we going to do?" Brian demanded of the group. His eyes were narrowed slits of dark anger that was practically begging to be released.

"Nothing, right now. Actually, I'm finally hungry. I think I would like to have something to eat," Trixie announced to the surprise of all around her, not answering Brian's question the way he meant for it be answered, and proving to them that she needed some peace herself. She rubbed her stomach and was surprised herself that her appetite was returning. She couldn't remember eating anything at all during the day, too consumed by her negative thoughts. "It's hard for me to believe it. I haven't had much of an appetite recently. In fact, I can't remember eating anything all day."

Dan appreciated the way she was trying to bring everything back to normal. He motioned to Mart and succeeded in helping her. He joked, "We were able to keep this one away from eating all the food. Barely. It was touch and go there for a while but we did manage to save a few things. It seems to me that there are a few hotdogs and hamburgers left, plus the snacks left out on the picnic table."

Mart griped back, standing up for himself, all the while his mind was spinning with the tale his sister had told him, "Hey, I'm a growing boy. I need all the sustenance I can get." No one noticed the eldest Beldens quietly slipping away from the group.

"You can put the food away like no one I've ever seen," Dan teased. He reached over and flipped on the grill, letting it warm up again. "I'll be glad to man the grill," he volunteered and pointed the spatula at Mart. "I'll be sure to keep prying hands off the food."

"I'll be back in a minute." Wanting to do something to use up her renewed energy, Trixie bounded up the back steps and threw open the screen door with a loud bang. Entering the kitchen, she came to a sudden and complete halt, feeling sympathy and guilt welling up within her until she felt like she was either going to explode or fall apart into a million pieces. Her hand went to her mouth, trying to stifle her gasp, and failing. Her mother was in her father's arms, her head on his shoulder, and her body was racked by quiet yet painful sobs. It was a sight that she would never forget and tore into her heart. Acting on impulsive, with no other recourse available to her, she rushed to her parents and blurted out tearfully, "Moms! Dad! I'm so sorry!"

Too caught up in her own grief, Helen hadn't heard Trixie's loud arrival. Attempting to swallow back her latest round of sobs, she failed miserably and closed her eyes against the weariness within her. Hating the fact that Trixie had seen her weakness, she found the strength to at least lift her head and wipe away her tears. Her hand trembled as she cradled Trixie's face. "Oh, honey," she mumbled, feeling guilty herself that Trixie had witnessed her meltdown. "It's not your fault. You have nothing to feel sorry for."

Peter had one strong arm around his wife, the other one wrapped around his daughter, the two most important females in life, and tried to give some of his strength to them. "Don't worry about your mother," he told her, wanting to break the seriousness of the moment and wipe the twin expressions of sorrow and guilt off of their faces. His rubbed Helen's back when she stiffened at his next words. "She wasn't crying about you, Trixie. She was crying because she can't find the keys to the house."

The sharp burst of laughter rolled up and out of her, astonishing her, as her love and respect for her parents grew and multiplied. "Well, that could be a problem," she shared and felt tears of mirth welling up in her eyes, chasing away the sadness and conquering the guilt. Giving her mother a watery smile, she implored forcefully, "Don't worry, Moms. We can always get new locks installed if you can't find them."

Helen was caught somewhere between gratitude with her husband for bringing them some much-needed levity, overpowering fright at the situation she didn't have any control over , and relief at seeing restored humor on her daughter's face. She didn't have any other choice but to go with the humor. There would be enough time for the other emotions. When she was alone, without her children being able to see. "We'll take care of the keys first thing in the morning." Her voice was low, shook, but had a firm strength returning to it that both caught and admired.

Trixie gave both of her parents a solid kiss and reached into the refrigerator. "It's on to round two for some of them out there," she explained needlessly. Both parents were aware of the amount of food that the Bob-Whites could consume on any given day. She pulled out the remaining hotdogs and hamburgers. "Me, Jim and Honey are only too happy to finally have our first servings of dinner."

"Enjoy your dinner, Trixie." Peter held onto his wife, silently giving her the support that she needed, and squeezed her shoulder. "We'll talk to you more in a bit. We're going to call the sergeant and find out what he thinks of the situation. He may even have more knowledge to share with us. Then we'll let you know if there are going to be any changes."

She shuddered, hoping that there wouldn't be any serious changes to her life. She wanted to go about her everyday life the way she normally did but she knew better than to argue with her father or to press her luck. She would be stuck with whatever the sergeant told them to do. Not wanting to address it, she offered instead, "I'll bet he's still at the station. I've known Sergeant Molinson for a long time. This was the most upset I've ever seen him. As you know, I've seen him upset a lot. He's going to call the superintendent and see about having my locker fingerprinted. He also said that he will get in touch with you with any new information that is discovered."

Peter bet that decision of the sergeant's had stung his overly independent daughter. He was also certain that the sergeant was sitting by his desk, impatiently waiting for their call. "We'll be in the den if you need us, Trixie." Hand-in-hand, her parents walked out of the kitchen, both feeling the oldest that they have ever felt, and as if their shoulders would crumble with the newest burden heaped upon them.

"Hey, squaw!" Mart complained loudly, sticking his head through the doorway, ready for more. "What's taking you so long? The rest of us are starving out here!"

"This from the bottomless pit," she grumbled with a long-suffering sigh, secretly delighted that Mart was teasing her but unwilling to show it to him. Right now she craved normalcy. She handed the package of hot dogs to him. "Take this out, then. I'll pat out some hamburgers and bring them to you in a few minutes."

"I'll help you, Trix," Honey offered quietly. She slipped in through the back door and walked past Mart.

He lifted his brows. "I'll leave you two to take care of that. Make a lot of burgers. Even though a few of us have already eaten, we wouldn't mind having another two or three burgers. There is nothing quite like Moms' hamburgers." He licked his lips and then left the room, leaving the young women to their work.

Whistling to himself, he joined the solemn group out on the terrace and wordlessly handed the hotdogs over to Dan. He sat down on the top of the picnic table, pulled over a bag of chips, and started munching on the snack. "So, what are we going to do about this?" he asked the men, keeping a close eye on the screen door, the better to see when the two would return.

All three looked at Brian when he proclaimed urgently, having made a decision a few seconds after Trixie had started her explanation, "We can't let any of them be alone. Ever. Not Trixie, Honey or Di. We have no idea what this psycho could do. I say we take turns driving them around, to school, to work, or wherever they need to go, and generally make pests of ourselves. I don't think it would be a smart idea to let any of the girls go off on their own."

"That's a good idea," Dan agreed fiercely. He liked it and could see the potential danger to the girls, as well. The situation was too unpredictable. "We'll keep as close a watch on them as we can. I sincerely doubt that they are going to like it but I think we already know that. All three of them are too independent."

"Trixie mentioned to you that she had received a text while we were at the station but Sergeant Molinson wouldn't show it to her." Quiet up to now, Jim breathed in deeply, keeping a firm handle on the temper that was begging to be released, before saying, "I saw the message. It said that the police couldn't help her."

No one liked it. Swearing under his breath, Mart patted the side of his pants, where his cell phone was quietly resting, and proclaimed, "I'll let Trixie have my cell. She needs it more than me. She shouldn't be without one right now. There's no telling when she'll get hers back from Sergeant Molinson or if she ever will. Not only that, she needs peace from this bastard. He won't know that she has my phone."

Jim had already planned on buying her a new one in the morning for the same reasons but kept his mouth closed, unsure of how her brothers would have responded to that, and gave a curt nod of agreement. Then he heard the soft swish of the screen door opening. "Shh-shh," he warned them, shushing the small group. "They're coming."

Dan pulled away and sauntered over to the grill where he made quick work of putting on the hotdogs, whistling cheerfully at his work. He flashed the girls a wide grin, who were not fooled by his façade of innocence in the least.

Putting her hands on her hips, Honey considered the group of four and recognized the differing expressions of guilt immediately. "It looks like we missed out on an all-male pow-wow," she pronounced in an exaggerated stage whisper to Trixie, hiding a low giggle at the way the men attempted to scatter from their conclave. Lifting an eyebrow at their ridiculousness, she gave the plate of hamburger patties over to Brian.

Trixie rolled her eyes. She doubted if it would be the first one the men would have without them present. "What did you decide?" she asked, keeping it straight forward, and without any irritation. After all, they were doing their best to protect her. It would be extremely petty of her to find fault with that.

Jim appreciated it, remembering the many times in the past when she would bristle at them for planning ways to keep her safe, and marveled at how she had matured without changing the part of her that made her so unique. He didn't have a doubt that she would make a fine detective when all was said and done. "Not much, really." He gave her a disarming grin, much more successful in his attempt than Dan had been a few seconds earlier. "You didn't give us enough time."

"We can go back inside if you want to continue," Honey offered sweetly, more annoyed than Trixie by their highhandedness.

Brian wasn't fooled. He wasn't about to take that offer, no matter how nicely it was given to them. "That's not needed, Honey. Really, the only conclusion we came to is that it may be best to offer our collective services to you as your chauffeurs, until the situation is resolved, of course. We don't want any of you to be alone, either. Ever."

Honey and Trixie gave a collective sigh, both feeling an odd mixture of dismay and relief. They had each expected worse. While neither were particularly excited about being babysat by the male members of their group, it unfortunately made sense to them and they couldn't argue with it. "That's not too bad. Not really, I guess," Honey decided slowly with a solemn nod of her head. "We can live with that."

"Someone should probably tell Di about this," Dan put in playfully. His lips twitched in barely contained amusement while he intentionally didn't stare at Mart. Idly turning over the hotdogs, he said, "She will need to know." He glanced at his watch and mentioned nonchalantly, "She only has a little over an hour left on her shift. I bet she would love to have company."

All eyes swung to Mart, who was munching on some chips. He felt the flush work its way up his cheeks and cursed inwardly. It was hard to keep a secret within this small group of friends but that was the price one paid for belonging to such a close club. Even with all the ribbing he knew that would be coming in his direction, he wouldn't have it any other way. Swallowing the chips, he grunted out, "I'll be glad to. I'll head over to the Club as soon as I finish my dinner."

"Well, I, for one, have had enough talk about this for one day," Trixie declared strongly and sat down across from Mart. She helped herself to a handful of chips and felt her stomach stop rumbling. The chips tasted surprisingly good. She reached for more. "Let's table it for the night and enjoy our late dinner."

Jim casually took the seat next to her, much to the quiet amusement of the rest of them, and agreed with her. His hand found hers under the table and he gave it a small squeeze before letting go. Meeting the concerned eyes of the others around the table, he declared solemnly, "Consider it tabled."


	23. Chapter 22

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Twenty-Two

The sky darkened from a comfortable blue to a deepening purple, announcing the end of the spring evening and the inevitable coming of the night. The impromptu picnic had ended. The few leftovers that remained had been packed. The terrace had been cleaned until it met Helen's inspection. Jim and Honey had left a few minutes earlier. Mart flipped on the lights of his car and carefully backed up, following Dan's truck out of the driveway, and ready to complete his errand. While he was excited about seeing Di, he certainly wasn't looking forward to the news he was about to tell her. His face was set in a scowl the entire way to the Sleepyside Country Club, trying to figure out a way he could tell her without scaring her too much.

The parking lot had more cars in it than the previous evening. Thinking that Di must have had a much busier shift than his sister, he parked the car in the lot, glad to see that the parking lot was extremely well-lit, and followed the long row of attractive lighting to the front porch. A few guests smiled at him as they passed on the sidewalk. He nodded but his mind was on the task at hand. His steps were measured and purposeful.

Di glanced up from the desk, the phone in her hands, when he pushed the door open. Delighted surprise danced across her face. She gave him a big smile in greeting but held up her finger to ward him off, needing to focus on the phone call. "Yes, I understand," she murmured quietly into the phone and competently added the information into the computer, her fingers clicking rhythmically away on the keys. "Do not worry, Mr. Anderson. I will make sure the information is now correct. Your new phone number and address has been updated into the registry. It is all taken care of. Right. Thank you. Yes, you too. Have a good evening."

Mart approached her, noticing the capable way she went about her job. After one shift, she already looked like a pro. He nonchalantly crossed his ankles and leaned against the desk. "Tell me. How is the lovely Diana Lynch this evening?" he flirted unashamedly.

She giggled; her exquisite violet eyes shining with the glow that only came with the full realization of a first love, and couldn't take her eyes off of him. "Wonderful, Mart, now that you're here." She placed her hands in her chin, stared up at him as if he was everything to her, and released another giggle, "I don't know why Trixie and Honey complained about being bored during their shifts here. I certainly haven't been. The phone hasn't stopped ringing all evening! All the calls have been about something different, too. It's been a trial by fire, if you know what I mean. There hasn't been anyone here to ask questions to, so, if I didn't know what to do, I had to figure it out by myself."

He picked up one of the brochures that were stacked in neat piles on top of the desk, for any guests who may be interested in the many local places and events available. Idly thumbing through it, he never realized that there was a spa in the area. An expensive one, by the look of the prices. "It's getting close to closing time, right?" he inquired.

She gave a quick bob of her head. "Fifteen minutes left. I'm glad, too. As much fun as it is working here, I am not looking forward to waking up tomorrow morning at all. How Trixie and Honey managed to put themselves together for school after an evening here is beyond me." Sighing dramatically, she added, "I would love to talk my parents into letting me stay home tomorrow but I know that won't happen."

"Trixie said something very similar to me this morning." But she hadn't been tired from working late, he realized. She had another stressor to deal with. He pointed over to the corner in the lobby. "Only fifteen minutes left for you. I'll wait for you over there, Di. I don't want to get you in trouble, especially on your first night on the job."

The phone rang again, interrupting her sudden protest, and proving the validity of his point. "Sleepyside Country Club," she greeted the caller with renewed perkiness, grinning to herself while she watched Mart saunter away with the special bounce he always had in his step and settle himself on one of the comfortable sofas, a different brochure in his hand. He's going to find out more about Sleepyside and its surrounding area than he's ever wanted to know, she thought to herself while he reached for another one to read. She listened with half an ear, distracted by the pleasant sight of Mart, and hungrily followed his every movement with her eyes. She had to force herself to concentrate and added the members in for a reservation to the restaurant for the following evening, being sure to double check the information in case she had entered it wrong. Sliding her eyes back towards Mart, she had to stifle a groan. It was going to be a long fifteen minutes.

But all things eventually come to an end, even a quarter of an hour that felt like it had tripled the amounts of its normal minutes. He was on his feet the instant she came towards him, having watched her close down her work station and walk down the hallway to gather her things. "No cool jacket?" he wondered, pointing to the multi-colored hooded sweater she was wearing instead.

"My zipper broke on it when I was taking it off last night. Isn't that awful? I only had a chance to wear it that single time. I have special permission to wear something different until the new one comes in." She pulled the hood up over her head as they left the building. The hood framed her face, the specks of color illuminating her perfectly, and hiding the twin French braids in her hair. "Brrr. It's chilly outside for a May evening."

He had to force himself to listen to her words. She looked absolutely delectable. Latching onto what she had just said, he was able to respond without too much of a delay and didn't feel too much like an idiot, "The weather forecast is calling for some cooler weather. Nothing to worry about but it will be getting cooler in the evenings for the next few nights. We'll have to be ready for it."

She gave an absent wave to another employee who was leaving. Turning to face Mart, she brought up the reason for his unexpected visit, "Not that I'm not happy to see you, Mart, but why did you stop by tonight?" She tilted her head, waiting for his answer. Her suspicions grew when he kicked the ground under his feet and didn't answer her right away.

The part of the evening he had been dreading. He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her over to a bench, carefully masking the feelings on his face. Gentle lights poked up periodically throughout the front lawn, bathing the area in its soft, romantic glow. "Have a seat, Di. We'll get you comfortable first. Then I'll tell you why."

The seriousness of his tone made her nervous. She sat down, her hands nervously rubbing the tops of her legs, and watched him closely. He was agitated, she could see that now. She had one horrible moment when she thought that he was going to back out and refuse to be her prom date. She chewed on her bottom lip, unable to bring herself to ask, and prayed that her suspicions were wrong. She would just die if he let her down; she knew it, no matter how gently he would do it.

Because he had absolutely no intention of breaking their date, he couldn't even begin to imagine the sudden path that her thoughts had taken her. Carefully lowering his body, he sat down next to her. Their knees brushed together. He ignored the strong pull the slight contact caused within him and took her hands in his. "We had a surprise meeting of the Bob-Whites tonight at my house. Trixie, Jim and Honey called it, I guess. Dan happened to be eating dinner with us so he was lucky enough to be there. I'm sorry that we couldn't have invited you to it. We knew you wouldn't be able to get away."

She had missed meetings before and had been briefed on the outcomes of them later on, but never right after the meeting had taken place. Instantly on alert, feeling that her inner doubts about Mart had been foolish in the extreme, she questioned him, her voice soft and wobbly, "What was the meeting about, Mart? There wasn't one planned, as far as I know." She supposed that Trixie or Honey could have mentioned one to her. She wouldn't have been surprised if the knowledge had floated in one ear and out the next.

"It was a spur-of-the-moment gathering," he explained, ignoring her question. "As I said, Jim, Honey and Trixie showed up unexpectedly. They had some information to share with us, as well as my parents."

"You don't need to worry about my feelings," Di assured him, frowning when he brought up his parents. "I am not offended in the least that there was a special meeting that I wasn't invited to. I do want to know what it was about." She hummed lowly when he didn't answer her right away. "Mart," she prompted, tapping a finger on his arm. "You need to tell me. That is the reason why you came to see me tonight, right? What was the meeting about?"

He gave a low sigh. She was right. "Our girl Trix," he answered back, keeping his words simple.

"Uh-oh," she breathed out. That could mean so many things. From the worried look on his face, she prepared herself for something unpleasant and sat up straighter. She tried to recall how Trixie had been during school but couldn't come up with a single clue, feeling even guiltier. She had been preoccupied with other things, namely her euphoria over the gentleman sitting next to her, and hadn't given Trixie or Honey a single thought all day. What had she missed? Di wondered frantically, mentally kicking herself for not being a better friend. "What's happening now?"

"She seems to be in a bit of trouble," Mart answered slowly, picking his words with extra care. Out of the seven Bob-Whites, Di scared the easiest. He didn't want to do it but he didn't have much of a choice. His main aim was to tell her as painlessly as possible.

Still clasping his hands, Di squeezed reflexively, hoping to reassure him. "I may not like chasing down criminals like Trixie and Honey but I'm not going to break in two, Mart. You can tell me," she told him, her tone firm. "You don't need to pussyfoot around. I am not a weakling. I can handle it."

Could she? Could any of them? He sincerely doubted it and prayed that the stalker situation was resolved sooner rather than later, in the most positive way possible. He took a deep breath, readying himself. "She has a problem, a rather big problem. In fact, you'll be surprised to know that she's already been to see Sergeant Molinson. She went with Honey and Jim before coming back to the Farm for dinner. They convinced her to go right after she told them." There wasn't an easy way to say it so he came right out with it. "Di, it looks like she may have a stalker after her."

Her eyes slowly widened until they were large orbs of pure, purple amethysts. "No, no, no! That is awful," she breathed out, losing all color to her face. She was wrong. She couldn't handle it. Her grip tightened on his hands while her heart started to race. "Please, tell me. You must be joking. You have to be, Mart," she pleaded with him.

"No, I'm not joking. Not this time." Mart moved in even closer, giving her a light, comforting embrace. "We wanted you to know, Di, before you got home tonight," he continued in that same quiet, soothing tone. "My dad has already been in contact with your parents, as well as with Miss Trask and the Wheelers. He wanted all of the adults to be aware of the situation. Sergeant Molinson suggested it after the two of them talked. I volunteered to come and talk to you. Your parents want me to follow you home tonight, just to be on the safe side."

"All right." She thought she should stand up but her body seemed frozen to the bench, unable to move. All she could do was stare out over the grounds. Suddenly the shadows didn't look quite so picturesque or quaint. They looked dangerous. Shivering, she couldn't begin to imagine how Trixie was feeling. "I know she hates pity more than anything but…poor Trixie." She threw back her hood and stared at Mart. "How is she handling this?"

"I would say that she is close to normal, now." Mart thought back to how Trixie had looked at breakfast and compared her to the way she was acting at the late dinner. It was definitely an improvement. "She seems more settled than she did this morning, probably because she knows what is going on and has started the ball rolling in the right direction, so to speak. You know she's always happiest when she's being active. The last week probably just about killed her, when she couldn't be sure if all of the odd things that were happening were coincidences or something else entirely. It's also great that she made contact with Sergeant Molinson and brought the police in quickly. That's, well, that's unusual in itself. It's a good thing Jim talked her into it."

"I'm surprised that she asked for help," Di shared after an moment of extended silence. "That's not like Trixie. She rarely asks anyone for help."

"No, it's not. I think she's more scared than she wants us to let on." Mart thought about their younger brother who hadn't been home during the meeting. His parents had decided that had been a blessing. "Bobby was over at your house with Terry and Larry so he didn't get to hear any of Trixie's tale. I'm not sure if my parents will tell him about it or not. I think they may want to impress upon him that it's imperative that they know where he's at, at all times, and that he is never to be alone."

"He's in that tough age where he will resent not being told if he finds out but he's not yet mature enough to handle the whole situation." Di gave a shiver and moved a little closer to Mart. She really didn't like the shadows around them. They seemed to be darkening and growing in size. Foolish, she knew, but she couldn't help it. She was frightened. "I'm glad that you came by to tell me, Mart."

He dropped an arm over her shoulder and felt her settle herself more firmly into the crook of his arm. "Yeah, me, too." It didn't bother him that Dan had more or less volunteered him to go. It was worth it. "I believe that all the parents want us to travel with someone else until everything is resolved .Which means, no one is to go off on their own."

Di gave a small gasp of laughter, stunned that she could actually find something humorous in the situation. "You don't have to tell that to me, Mart. I have absolutely no intention of going anywhere by myself. It's Trixie you'll have to worry about there."

"Tell me about it. I think it was agreed before everyone departed that Brian will drive the three of you to school tomorrow and that Jim will pick you up afterwards. Dan and I are starting early again at Mrs. Elliott's so we weren't able to offer our services. We should hopefully be finished there by the afternoon. Brian and Jim will be on school patrol most days. Plus it will give our two oldest members a reason to get up and move about, instead of turning into a pair of unemployed lazybones." Mart knew that he was rambling but the effect she was having on him was distracting. She was simply too close for his mind to function properly.

"Okay." Di hesitated but then laid her head on Mart's shoulder. She knew that they should go but she found it so peaceful to be near him, even with the heavy conversation they were having. "I don't want to leave yet," she murmured softly, picking at the material of her sweater.

He liked having her close. His arm tightened, pulled her willing body flush against his side. "We can stay here for a few more minutes, if you like."

She liked it. She liked it a lot. She glanced up to tell him so but stopped, her mouth falling open in surprise. The moonlight fell through the trees, illuminating her face and making her even more beautiful than she already was. Her breath caught when she saw the glint in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, realizing that maybe, just maybe, she was about to get her first kiss but unsure how to ask for it, she tilted her head back and looked at him fully, praying that he would be able to realize what she wanted him to do.

Surprised by the hopeful invitation in her face, not certain if she was asking him for what he thought she was asking, he hesitated, unsure if he should proceed. But, when faced with finally making a dream that he had dreamed for too many years to count into a reality, he couldn't stop himself for too long. Very deliberately, he brought his lips to hers, brushing hers gently with his. It was a soft, light, slow kiss, one without much passion to it, but filled to the brim with care and awe.

"Oh," was all she was able to say when he pulled back, her eyes tightly closed and a look of wonder on her pretty face. "That was lovely."

Lovely was good, especially for their first kiss. He would try for a different response next time. "I, ahh…you didn't mind?" he stuttered out, his beloved words failing him. He watched her sharply, wondering if she could tell how important the answer was to him.

She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes large and doe-like, and wished she was more sophisticated. "Oh, no, Mart. I didn't mind." She held onto his hand, drawing hearts on it with her finger, and stared up into his face. "Really. I didn't mind at all."

He ran his fingers up her arm, feeling the soft material of her sweater. "I'm going to be giving my cell phone to Trixie," he murmured. "She needs it more than I do. You won't be able to get in touch with me that way, should you need to."

"I think that's awful sweet of you!" Di exclaimed, proud of, well, proud of her boyfriend, she thought excitedly, coming to the happy conclusion. That's what he was, whether he knew it or not.

He stood up, taking her with him, when all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms on the bench for the rest of the night. Their parents would worry if they weren't home soon. He was sure they had been given a little leeway to discuss the situation but not much. "I guess we should be heading back."

She nodded, her cheeks a delicious shade of pink, having difficulty trying to keep the smile from splitting her face, and failing completely. All thoughts of Trixie and her problem were gone, replaced with the sweet memory of her first kiss by the man in front of her, and her eyes rivaled the stars above them for their sheer brilliance. "My parents are probably wondering where I am." Her voice sounded different, more thick and lower than it should be.

They strolled, her hand snuggled comfortably in his, to the parking lot, taking their time, and savoring their last moments together for the evening. Ever the chivalrous one, he opened her mother's car door and assisted her in. They shared one last long look before she started her car up and waved goodbye. Whistling, he went to his car and followed her. Within a few minutes the two of them were traveling down Glen Road, one behind the other, and on their way home. He pulled his car to a stop in the middle of the quiet country road and didn't leave until he saw her park her car in her driveway, right in front of her house. He could make out her form as she left the car and hurried safely into the house. Then he continued on his way to his home.

His headlights cut through the encroaching night. Keeping the radio low, he thought about their kiss with a small, satisfied smile on his face. The short ride home past by in a blur. Pulling the car to a complete stop at his house, he parked it, stared at the porch, and bit back a disappointed sigh. This was one time when he regretted living in a house full of people. Normally he loved the chaos of his family. Tonight, he wanted to be alone, to relive and revel in their first kiss, and hopefully plan out the second one, as well as many more to come. But he could make out the outlines of two people. Trixie and Brian, without a doubt, guessing that the rest of his family was already asleep in their beds. He approached the duo, pushing aside his wants for the moment, and hid his disappointment behind his wide grin. "What's going on, siblings?" he questioned, taking the steps two at a time with his renewed supply of energy.

Dressed in sweats, Trixie looked up from the porch swing. One foot was putting the swing into its gentle back and forth motion while the other was tucked underneath her knee. The motion was soothing and lulling. "Not too much. Everyone else has gone to bed," she answered his unspoken question. "Brian here was keeping me company. He was telling me the horror of his finals. They sounded pretty rough." She gave an uneasy shudder, thankful to Brian for keeping her mind occupied. "I pray that I never, ever have to take any classes like he has had to in college. Oh, the horror."

"I should be able to check out my grades on-line tomorrow," he said. "It'll be a relief to see how well I did." And it would put an end to his recurrent nightmare of falling below his required grade point average and losing his scholarship.

Mart had already seen his grades. He was cheerful with his 3.35 grade point average. Not the best in his class and thank goodness not the worst. But it was good enough for him. However, he didn't have the added pressure of maintaining a certain average. He gave his brother a sympathetic pat on his shoulder before flopping down next to Trixie on the swing, putting an abrupt end to the lulling motion. "All you've done is talk about grades since I've been gone, huh?"

"And a few other things," Brian replied. He leaned against the porch railing and pointed to their sister. "I did have to grill her on why you and I were the last to find out what's going on. Knowing you the way that I know you, I'll bet you were wondering about it, too. It looks like it was bad timing for us."

Mart rubbed his chin and pondered it. He had been too shocked, upset and furious at finding out about the stalker to allow his own hurt feelings to surface. But, if Brian was bringing it up, he would be more than happy to confront his sister about it. "I was wondering, too." He ruffled Trixie's hair but looked over her, as if she wasn't there, and addressed Brian instead. "It seems to me that we have fallen behind in importance with our wayward sibling here. First Honey, then Jim, and even Sergeant Molinson. Where does that leave us, the poor saps who happen to be her brothers?"

"Hey!" Trixie protested, ducking away from him and slapping his prying hands away from her head. She combed her fingers through her hair in an attempt to fix some of the damage. "It couldn't be helped, Mart. Jim insisted on going right to the police station after I told him."

Brian and Mart exchanged amused glances. "Jim," they repeated together in unison before dissolving into a fit of deep, hearty male laughter. An unholy gleam entered Mart's eyes. "It would have to be Jim. I can't imagine why she would have told him ahead of us, can you, Brian? At least Honey still out-rates him in order of importance."

Her face was now bright red. "You two are being silly," she sniffed, her nose in the air.

Brian ignored his sister and joined in the teasing. She deserved it, he figured with an irritated shrug. After all, there had been an opportunity for her to at least include himearlier than she had. He was feeling brotherly enough to point it out to her. "Did I happen to tell you about a phone call I had with Jim earlier this afternoon, Mart? I called to check up on someone who was supposed to call home and let us know if she was eating dinner here or not. Our good friend Jim answered Trixie's phone. He was rather rude to me but I can forgive him for that, now that I know everything that's been going on. I also think he must be auditioning to be her private secretary or something." He sighed and stared at Trixie, making her squirm under his direct gaze. "Of course, that would have been a perfect time for someone to have filled me in, since you were still working."

Mart fell heavily against the back of the porch swing, making the poor thing rattle and groan in a fierce protest, and sighed dramatically. "But, then, _Jim_ didn't suggest that, did he? And we all know that our dear, darling sister here only listens to him." He clapped his hands on his forehead. "Heaven forbid if the rest of us should have an idea."

Her eyes were thin slits of pure annoyance. She had enough, hating to be on the receiving end of their teasing at any time, but she really couldn't stand it when it involved Jim. It was worse because she couldn't defend herself without sounding foolish or turning herself into a hypocrite. Standing up from the swing, she quickly used her body to block it from moving forward and held onto the back of the swing. She gave it a hearty jerk and managed to unceremoniously dump her brother to the hard wooden floor below, an unrepentant grin on her face. At least she had been able to get even with one of her brothers. "I think I'm going to turn in for the night," she declared, turning on her heels and giving her brothers a small bow. "I wish you two simpering idiots a good night."

Mart stood up and brushed off his pants, scowling at his sister, but impressed with her ingenuity. She had taken him by surprise. Waiting until Trixie had her hand on the door handle, he announced to Brian, "It's a shame our sister here had to go and do something so childish. I thought maybe she would have liked to hear about my visit with Di." He kept his back to her but knew the second she turned back around and felt the ends of his lips tilt up at her loud, exasperated sigh.

She blew out a frustrated breath but dropped her hand from the handle. "All right, Mart," she gritted out, as curious as he had expected her to be, and reluctantly turned to face him. "Let's hear your story."

"It's not that much of one," he said, offering her the disclaimer. He walked around the porch swing, giving it a wide berth. He wasn't sitting back on it for a long time. Instead, he joined his brother against the porch railing. Their poses were identical. Arms folded across their chests, bodies relaxed, and both focused on their sister. "Di was upset about it, of course, as we all knew she would be. She knows everything that is going on. She'll be waiting for you to pick her up tomorrow, Brian."

He didn't mind being on chauffeur duty. It gave him something to do. But he had to roll his eyes. It had the potential to be a frustrating chore. All three girls were notoriously bad at getting ready on time while he preferred to be overly punctual. He wouldn't be surprised if his self-assigned chore would end up raising his blood pressure. "That's good to know."

Trixie put her hands on her hips when Mart didn't continue, only looked at her with his eyebrows raised. "That's it?" she sneered at him. "You don't have anything else to tell us? That's all I stayed out here for?"

Mart reached towards his cell phone and offered it to her, all playfulness gone, and ready to throw in the figurative towel. "I may have mentioned to Di that she could use my cell phone number if she needs to get in touch with you, Trix." When she didn't seem to understand what he meant, he put the object into her hand and folded her fingers over it. "You can borrow mine until…well, for as long as you need it."

How he could make her so frustrated one minute and then so sentimental the next, she would never know. He excelled at it. But the irritation left her and her face relaxed. "Thanks, Mart," she mumbled, touched by his offer, and blinking back a few startling tears. It was too sweet of him. She could use it. It would also make her parents feel more secure, too, and maybe give her a little more freedom since they would be able to get in touch with her whenever they wanted to. "I really appreciate it."

He grinned at her, the only apology he would offer her. "No problem. Squaw," he added, not wanting the moment to be too mushy. He had seen the glitter of the tears and would prevent them from spilling at all cost. Like most members of the male population, he abhorred the sight of tears.

Brian eyed the two and shook his head, hiding his own grin. They would never change. He imagined the two of them would still be bickering when they were old enough to spend their remaining days on the front porch of a nursing home, in their matching rocking chairs. "Well, I have an early morning now, as do the rest of you," he said, giving Mart a little push. "I think we all should head to bed."

Trixie nodded, actually feeling tired for the first time in a long time. She covered a yawn and led the way into the house, more than ready to put an end to the frustrating day. Tomorrow would have to be better. She hoped. "Good night!"

The two listened to her light footsteps echoing back on the stairs. When they receded and it was quiet, Brian looked at Mart, his eyes deadly serious. He hated the situation they were in. They had orders to follow from their parents before going to bed. "I'll check the windows and make sure they're locked," he volunteered. "Then I'm going to turn in for the night."

"I'll take care of the doors." It was the first time either could ever remember locking up their house. The doors and windows had always been unlocked. It seemed to go against the open personality of their house to change it but they didn't have a choice. Mart waved goodnight to Brian after he checked the front door. Then he stopped in the kitchen to make sure the back door was locked and to also search out a small snack, to tide him over until breakfast. "Keep an eye on things, old boy," he muttered to Reddy, patting the sleeping dog on the head, and munching on a handful of pretzels. "We'll see you in the morning."


	24. Chapter 23

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Twenty-Three

The morning hadn't been as frustrating as Brian had predicted it would be. Trixie had been ready ahead of time. In a show of sisterly helpfulness, she had called both her friends to let them know that they were on their way to pick them up in hopes of speeding up their morning rituals. It worked for their first guest. Di had been waiting outside her house, with her parents watching over her from the large living room picture window. "Do you think Honey's going to be waiting for us?" Brian wanted to know after Di climbed into the car. He drove Mart's car up the hill to Manor House. Mart had graciously offered them the use of his car since the jalopy was technically working but still acting up. Brian was planning on working on it after he returned home.

Di and Trixie exchanged glances. "She has as good a chance of being ready as any of us do," Trixie finally admitted ruefully. It was a toss-up. None of them were morning people unless they had an extra incentive. School never counted as an incentive. It was too much of a chore. "She said she would be ready when I talked to her before we left."

True to her word, Honey was waiting for them on the steps of the wide front porch of the Manor House, looking refreshingly attractive in a cream-colored shirt and light lavender pants, and her hair pulled back with a matching headband. She hopped up the minute she saw the car arrive, a welcoming smile adorning her face, and waited for Brian to stop, her backpack in her hands, and then rushed over to the car. "Good morning, everyone!" she sang out cheerfully while climbing into the backseat and settling herself next to Di.

A chorus of not-so-cheery good mornings came from the other girls, who were not quite as wide awake as their good friend, and were certainly not in the same good mood. Grinning to himself, Brian met her honey-colored eyes in the rearview mirror. Somehow she always managed to take his breath away. "Good morning, Honey," he answered solemnly, being careful to not stare at her overly long and also to pay attention to where he was going as he backed up the car.

Trixie poked her blonde head over her seat and pointed to the clock. "I must say that I'm surprised that all three of us are ready and _ahead_ of time. We're actually going to be early for school. That is unusual, if you ask me. It's got to be some type of a record for us."

Di covered her mouth, attempting to hold back a yawn, and leaned back in to her comfortable plush seat. She closed her eyes to block out the glare of the morning sun. "Well, if it had been up to me, I would still be sleeping. My mom had to come in and wake me up when the alarm clock didn't work. I didn't imagine I would be so tired after working last night." Her face took on a far-away look. Mart was also a good part of the reason why she had trouble waking up. She had been in the midst of a delicious dream about him and had wanted to shoo away all interruptions.

Honey and Trixie gave her sympathetic nods. "I felt the same way, too," Honey agreed, remembering her Tuesday morning and how slow she had seemed to move. She had spent most of that morning forcing her eyes to stay open. "I'm glad we only agreed to work one school night at the Country Club. It was more tiring than I thought, too. Are you looking forward to your Saturday shifts?"

Trixie answered enthusiastically, "Yes!" She didn't say it but she was surprised her parents were willing to let her keep her shift. Maybe they realized it would be good for her to focus on something else and keep her life moving as normally as possible.

Brian listened to the girls around him, quietly taking in the conversation but not adding anything to it, and enjoying the way they talked with each other. Not one of them brought up the issue with Trixie, almost as if they had some kind of unspoken agreement to ignore it and not discuss it. He thought it was a good idea and gave them his whole-hearted approval. Studying his sister out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that she looked much better than she had the day before. She was laughing and smiling and actually looked like she had slept well the night before.

Trixie caught him staring at her, knew the exact reason why, and gave him a jaunty smile that was not forced. "I'm doing fine, Brian," she murmured quietly so that he was the only one who could hear her. She didn't want to open up the floodgates for her friends. Then she turned to the girls in the backseat, "Can you believe we've all been lucky enough to not have any tests or papers or projects due this week? It's like the teachers are being extra nice to us, for some unknown reason."

"I know what you mean. What could be their nefarious reason? It makes me wonder what the teachers have planned for us next week." Honey shivered at the unpleasant thought. "I haven't been able to believe my good fortune. I've had very little homework, too. I've finished the paper that is due on Friday."

"It's my theory that they're waiting for next week or right after the prom to spring the heavy stuff on us," Di put in with an exaggerated cackle, painting an unpleasant picture for them. "Can't you see the teachers sitting in their comfortable lounge, rubbing their hands together in glee and plotting against the poor, deprived upperclassman? It would certainly put a damper on the prom!" she finished with a deep chuckle.

Honey went quiet at the mention of the prom, her eyes immediately finding the back of Brian's dark head. He was the one she wanted to go to the prom with, not her actual date. Hiding a sigh, she covertly studied Di who was elaborating on her fanciful thoughts about the teachers and their potentially nefarious schemes, unaware of the abrupt change in Honey's demeanor. She was the only lucky one out of them, Honey decided enviously. Di was the only one who was actually attending the prom with the person she wanted to go with. It was a bit disheartening. Then she glanced at the blonde curls bobbing ahead of her with laughter and felt her sigh deepen. Trixie may not be going with Jim but there was no doubt in her mind that something special was brewing between the two of them, something that went beyond fond glances and special feelings. There didn't seem to be much going on at all her own department, Honey realized despondently as she studied Brian's thick, wavy hair. Nothing at all.

Brian beeped at Dan as he drove past them, on his way to meet Mart at Crabapple Farm and start their full work day, and startled Honey, bringing her back into the conversation. "There goes Dan," he inserted easily into the conversation.

"He's an early bird, too," Trixie noted, craning her neck to follow Dan's progress down the road. Mart had also been up. Rather grumpy, unpleasant and fatigued from a restless night of sleep but he had been awake. It had been his turn to not sleep well. "It looks like Jim was the only one of us who had the luxury to sleep in today."

Honey shook away her meandering thoughts. It wasn't like she could do anything about them. "Oh, no," she disagreed hastily. "He's up and about, too, like the rest of us. Regan's been complaining about the horses. You know how Regan can be. They haven't been exercised as much as they should be. He's out exercising them with now with Regan."

Trixie frowned at the mention of the horses and felt a pull of longing. Riding was forbidden to her for the moment, until everything was resolved, even if she was riding with one of her friends. Her parents believed it to be too dangerous, especially when they heard that there may be a correlation between the stalker and her fall off of Susie. It was a flat-out negative despite her arguments. They had apologized to her but had flatly refused to listen to any of her pleadings. "Good for him," she mumbled, wishing she could do the same thing.

"Well, I think he's crazy," Di put in, taking out a comb from her backpack and running it through her silky hair. Then she pulled out a container of lipstick and added it to her full lips. "If I had the opportunity, you can bet that I would be sleeping in until noon."

Honey giggled but didn't add that Jim had looked like he hadn't slept a lot the night before. She hadn't needed to ask him why he had looked so tired when he had sat down across from her at the breakfast table. The reason was sitting in the front seat of the car. "Jim said he'll meet us in the parking lot right after school. He's our ride home, you know." She grabbed her backpack when it fell off the seat and quickly righted it, double checking to make sure that nothing had fallen out of it.

"Here we are." Brian pulled into the school parking lot. It was surprisingly empty. They were one of the first students to arrive. He parked the car in a front spot and waited for the girls to exit. "I'll see all of you later. Have a great day, everyone!"

Honey came to a stop right after getting out of the car, rifled through her backpack, and headed back, her cheeks tinted a becoming shade of pink. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Brian," she whispered softly. "I'm sure you want to be on your way home. My cell phone must have fallen out of my backpack."

He watched in the mirror as she knelt on the back seat and searched for it. He was gifted with a perfect view of her profile. She was so lovely. He knew her soft, aristocratic features well, could have sculpted them with his eyes closed if he had that particular talent. "Have you found it, Honey?" he asked, his voice huskier than normal.

She held it up with a triumphant laugh, unaware of the effect she had on him. "Right here, Brian!" She checked it, saw the new text message from her mother, and released a happy, trilling giggle. "How delightful! My mother must have just sent me a text. My parents are hoping to be home tomorrow afternoon, providing they don't have any trouble with their flight plans. They are in Europe right now," she explained to him, doubting if he knew.

He was happy to see her smile in joy. He had known Honey long enough to realize that her parents' frequent absences from home bothered her more than she ever let on. She never talked about it but it was impossible to miss. "I hope they don't have any traveling problems."

"Me, too! I've missed them so much." Bending her head, Honey slipped a piece of her hair behind her ear and typed back a quick message. Then she backed out and accidently bumped her head on the entrance to the back seat. "Ow!" she exclaimed and rubbed the spot, embarrassed that she had done something so juvenile in front of Brian. She didn't look at him. "Thanks for waiting for me, Brian. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

"I didn't mind," he answered truthfully. He wasn't about to argue with a few, precious moments of alone time with Honey. In a group their size, it didn't happen that much. But it wasn't the best for his equilibrium. He had already decided it would be best to not pursue a relationship after she graduated from high school. He didn't know if it would be fair to her, to have to put up with a boyfriend who was under a huge amount of stress, both from the pressures of college and the requirements of his scholarship, and who wouldn't be able to give her the time and attention that she deserved. However, the more time he spent with her, the more his resolve seemed to weaken. And he had only been home for two days. Staring up at the ceiling, he could only begin to imagine how he would feel about it after he had been home a week. "Be safe, Honey, and have a good day."

Honey shut the door and watched him drive away, her heart sighing a little with his departure. It had been a treat to spend a portion of the morning with him, even if it had only been for a few moments, and in the company of her friends. She caught Trixie waiting for her on the sidewalk and pinned a light smile on her face. Trixie would understand how she was feeling, she realized with absolute certainty, more so than Di, but she wasn't about to bring up. Somehow talking to the sister of the man you were interested in would be…uncomfortable. She wasn't about to go down that road, she thought with an inward shudder. "Are you ready to go in?" She motioned to the front doors of the school. "Oh, and where's Di?"

Trixie fell into an easy step with her friend. They entered the school and the nearly deserted halls. It was odd to see the school that empty. "Di ran into her partner for her Spanish class. They have to practice their skit for their class today so she's already gone in. I couldn't understand a word of what they were saying to each other. It was all in Spanish." She hadn't taken anything beyond the required one year of a foreign language. The way Trixie figured it, she had enough trouble mastering basic English. She wasn't about to add another language on top of it.

Di was the most proficient of any of them in a different language. "She'll be wonderful, as always." Honey saw Trixie come to a sudden stop. Her eyebrows drew together and she put a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder, concerned. Eyebrows furrowed, she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. "What are you looking at, Trix?"

Trixie pointed to her locker. It hadn't changed overnight; was still the same, dull yellow with paint chips scratched out of it and the number 143 engraved on a small silver tab, but she couldn't bring herself to touch it. "I don't know if I want to open it or not," she mumbled, hating herself for feeling afraid of an inanimate object.

She understood immediately. "Let me do it for you." She knew the combination. Honey, who was once afraid of practically everything under the sun, stepped up and competently dialed the combination, keeping her own fears tightly locked away. The locker opened easily. Honey swallowed back her nerves and peered inside, scanning the contents of the messy locker. There was nothing abnormal, only the usual array of books, notebooks, and loose papers threatening to spill out in an uncontrollable heap into the hallway. The hat was gone, as Sergeant Molinson had promised. "It looks normal," she announced, holding the door open wider.

Trixie stood on her tiptoes and stared over her friend's shoulder. "Yeah," she agreed after a long minute's study. "You're right. There's nothing different here. Now." It was almost hard to believe that there had been anything suspicious in it. She reached for the books she needed for her morning classes and added them to her backpack. "Maybe we will have a day without any incidents," she suggested hopefully. It was already starting off better than she had expected.

"We'll see," Honey wasn't quite as optimistic as her friend. "We'll take baby-steps. Let's make it through the school day first."

Mr. Stratton chose that moment to walk up behind them, thankful to meet with his student in the privacy of the empty hallway. "Good morning, Trixie, Honey," he said jovially, making both of them jump at his arrival.

Trixie chuckled at her nerves. She was jumpier than she had thought. "Sorry, Mr. Stratton," she apologized quickly. "I didn't hear you coming."

He nodded, smiling reassuringly at them. "I'm grateful to see the two of you this morning. I wanted to let you know that I had a long conference call with both Sergeant Molinson and your parents this morning. Please, if anything happens in the school that you suspect is odd or unusual, no matter how small or insignificant it seems, come find me immediately. Then I'll call the sergeant and your parents. The sergeant didn't want anyone else on staff to know the particulars of the case so you will need to come to me. He doesn't want to have too many cooks in the pot, as the saying goes. It is only myself and the superintendent who are aware that anything unusual is going on."

"If anything happens, I'll see that she comes to the office right away," Honey promised hastily when Trixie didn't answer. She could tell from the steely look in the normally friendly blue eyes that Trixie was starting to be fed up with others telling her what to do, even though they only had her best interests at heart.

"Excellent," Mr. Stratton exclaimed, unaware that Trixie was seething with righteous indignation. He beamed at the two girls. "As much as I like seeing you in my office, I rather hope that I do not need to. Take care, ladies."

Trixie narrowed her eyes and whirled around to face Honey, frustrated by the way it seemed that her life was being taken out of her hands. "I can't believe it. Mr. Stratton has already been in a conference call with Sergeant Molinson and my parents? School hasn't even officially started yet!" She slumped against the row of lockers, her lips pursed, and her eyes narrowed. "It seems like everything is spiraling beyond my control. I can't stand this, Honey, and I do not like it."

"I understand." Honey slammed Trixie's locker door shut more forcefully than necessary. She took a deep breath and, with the legendary tact she was known for, took a minute to study the situation from all angles and attempted to find the best way to diffuse her friend's angry frustration. "But you don't have much of a choice right now. You have to look at it this way, Trixie. You've got a lot of people in your corner. They are out there, helping you in the only way they know how, and doing all that they can to see, well, to see that you're okay and to catch the person that's responsible. It'll all come to an end, sooner than we think, I think, and then everything can go back to the way it should be. I'm sure you think that, too."

Honey's convoluted speech restored Trixie's good mood. She let out a sharp bark of laughter and gave her friend a playful push in the direction of their first class, her frustration gone for the moment. It would be back. She hated to have her independence curtailed, no matter how good the reason behind it. "Lead the way, Honey. I want to get this school day over with."

When the three friends gathered at their lockers after the last bell of the day rang out, they stared at each other, a bit stunned as they came to the realization that it had been a normal day. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It almost felt surreal to her. She hadn't received a hang-up. Nothing had popped up in her locker. She didn't have any odd feelings of being watched. It almost seemed like the incidents of the past week had really been figments of her imagination. She gave a large smile to Mr. Stratton when they passed him in the hall. He acknowledged it with his own look of relief. In all, it had been the best school day she had experienced in the longest of times. "I feel great!" Trixie announced gleefully as they walked down the long hall, even though she had a short essay to write for her Humanities class.

Di pushed open the door and came to a surprised halt. "Well, would you look at that?" she whispered to her friends, arching an eyebrow at the sight only a sidewalk and a patch of asphalt away from them. She gave a cheerful wave to the two male Bob-Whites who were waiting in the crowded parking lot for them. "Imagine that. We must have been extra good today. We have two rides."

Trixie found Jim first. He was leaning against his Pathfinder, the afternoon sun glinting off the red in his hair, in deep conversation with her blonde brother. He answered Di's wave with a two-fingered one of his own. She had been expecting to see him. Her eyebrows drew together. She hadn't expected to see her brother. "Mart," she mumbled out, wondering why he was there. Since there was only one way to find out, she hurried to catch up with her friends.

Jim saw her coming and pushed himself off his car. "Hey, Trix." He had been anticipating this moment all day, having spent most of his day staring at his watch, willing it to move quicker, and wondering where she was and, more importantly, how she was doing. His voice was even but he looked her over closely, searching for any signs on how her day had gone, and was instantly relieved. She looked happy, relaxed, energetic, and, he was grateful to say, normal. It had been a good day for her, without anything odd happening. He didn't need to ask.

Honey and Di rolled their eyes when Jim didn't greet them. "Can he get any more obvious?" Honey murmured quietly to Di, uncertain why the two hadn't progressed any farther along than mere friendship, and shook her head.

"No," was her quick and amused answer. She ignored Jim, who only had eyes for Trixie, and sidled up closer to Mart. Her face lit up with happiness when she remembered their kiss from the evening before. "Hey, Mart," she said lowly. "I'm surprised to see you here today."

Mart flashed the boyish grin she loved, taking in everything about her appearance, and was ecstatic to spend a few minutes with her. She was beautiful, as always, even after a strenuous day of high school classes. "I'm here to take charge of my sister," he explained, pointing at Trixie.

Trixie whipped her head around, sending her blonde curls flying. "What do you mean, Mart?" She wasn't sure how to take his announcement and held her breath, waiting to see what he had planned for her.

"You and I have been given the chore of grocery shopping." Mart pulled out the long list written in her mother's neat handwriting and waved it in front of her face. "My dear, we have a date with the _Shop 'n' Save_."

She gave a small huff of annoyance. Grocery shopping ranked right below housecleaning on her list of least favorite chores. It was one that she had been required to do after obtaining her driver's license. "Do we have to?" she complained, gritting her teeth.

"Yes, we do," Mart answered, as unhappy with the task as his sister but unable to refuse it. "Moms had to take Bobby to his dentist appointment. Brian was supposed to do the shopping but he received a surprise call from his supervisor for his summer internship. He has been on the phone for the past hour with him. Dad, of course, is still at the bank. That leaves you and me to tackle the grocery store, squaw."

She would rather have had the ride home with Jim but she didn't admit that. She could only imagine the embarrassment and ribbing that would come her way. Left without any other option, she gave in with a disdainful and unladylike snort. "All right." Taking the list from Mart, she grimaced at the length of it. It was going to be a long shopping trip. "We should probably get started if we want to be home by sundown," she said sarcastically and opened the passenger side door of Mart's car. "See you later."


	25. Chapter 24

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Twenty-Four

They reluctantly left their friends, Mart with a last glance of longing for Di and Trixie with a tiny smile for Jim, and got into the car. Trixie watched in the mirror as Jim drove off in the opposite direction toward Glen Road, wishing she could have been in his car. But nothing seemed to be going the way she wanted it to go, she thought despairingly to herself. Lost in thought, she didn't pay any attention during the short ride to the grocery store. Thankfully, it was not one of the busiest times for the store. There were only a few other cars in the parking lot. Mart parked his car on the far side and together the two entered the store, both with the same unenthusiastic expressions on their faces. "I'm not looking forward to this," Trixie grumbled to Mart.

"That makes two of us." Mart paused and stared at the long, neat aisles, patiently waiting for the shoppers to peruse them and find the items that they needed. He blinked his eyes against the harsh glare of the fluorescent lighting and pondered where to start.

"At least we're not here during rush hour." Trixie gave a dramatic shudder. Shopping during the hectic hours was not an enjoyable experience, was one to avoid at all costs, especially when the _Shop 'n' Save_ was the only grocery store in town, other than Mr. Lytell's little store out on Glen Road. She hastily tore the list in half, offered one piece to him, and grabbed a shopping cart. "How about we split up and meet back here at the check-out registers when we're done? We should be able to get done in half the time."

His blue eyes glinted with approval. He liked the sound of it. While he had a special appreciation for anything that pertained to food, foraging for it was not his favorite way to spend his time. "Sometimes, my dear Beatrix, you astound me and come up with an excellent idea." He tapped her blonde head. "It's proof to me that there is something else rattling around in there besides cobwebs." He accepted his list with a flourish and pulled out his own shopping cart. "I'm off to find…milk, bread, and pop-tarts!" he sang out, leaving her laughing.

She read her half of the list, started towards the deli, and shook her head, sending her curls flying. It took an awful lot of food to feed the large Belden family, as well as any number of friends who may drop in at a moment's notice, she thought, chuckling to herself, and causing the elderly lady standing next to her to look at her as if she was crazy. Trixie concentrated on searching for each item on her list. After completing her half of the shopping, she waited by the check-out registers, making small talk with the townspeople who walked by, and stood on her tiptoes to search the area for her taller brother. She finally spotted him coming her way. "What took you so long?" Trixie complained when he rejoined her, doing her best to hide a satisfied grin that she had finished first.

"Your list must have been shorter," he shot back, detesting the fact that she had beaten him, and pulled his cart ahead of hers into the check-out line. Looking through his wallet, he took out the family debit card his mother had given him for the groceries and glanced at his watch, amazed by how quickly they had shopped. "It wasn't that bad. Our tag-team shopping cut our expected shopping time in half. We've only been in here for twenty minutes, Trix!"

"That's not bad, Mart." They worked together in competent and compatible silence, emptying their carts, and placing the items on the belt. It wasn't long before everything was checked, bagged, paid for, and back in the cart. The cart was overflowing with plastic bags. "Thank you," Trixie offered politely to the cashier who looked as if she had spent one too many hours on her feet. Then the two walked down the aisle that led to the front doors, Mart pushing the full cart while Trixie was beside him. "Now we get the ultra fun task of putting the groceries away," she said wryly.

"That's another reason why shopping is not one of my favorite things to do," Mart shared. He would much prefer to do something outside. They walked through the sliding glass doors that opened wide for them.

"There's only one thing that we're missing," Trixie said hesitatingly. The large grocery store did not carry her favorite item, much to her chagrin. She gave Mart a wistful look, causing him to groan.

"You want to stop at Mr. Lytell's store, don't you?" he inferred correctly and gave her a look of exaggerated pain. He didn't mind shopping at the quiet country store if Trixie wasn't with him. She was not Mr. Lytell's favorite person.

"Well, we are out of strawberry pop," she replied defensively. Then Trixie gave him a large grin and grabbed the shopping cart away from him. "Come on, let's go! The quicker we get the groceries loaded up, the quicker we get to Mr. Lytell's and the quicker we get home!"

He followed her, mainly because he didn't have much of a choice, and complained with each step. "Come on, Trix. We just spent twenty minutes shopping in there. Do we really have to go to Mr. Lytell's store, too?"

She threw a saucy grin over her shoulder. "You know we do, Mart." It didn't take too long before they had the bags loaded up into the back of Mart's car. Then they were on their way to the little country store.

Mart pulled into the small parking lot of the tiny country store. He glanced over at Trixie when he heard her take a deep breath. "You realize that you're still really low on Mr. Lytell's list? I think you rank a little higher than Laura Ramsey."

"I know," she answered with a deprecating laugh. "Believe me, I know. Mr. Lytell has never failed to make me feel unwelcome in his store. I would avoid shopping in his store like the plague if it wasn't for the fact that this is the only place in Sleepyside where we can get my strawberry pop!" Thinking quickly, Trixie pasted a pleading look on her face and made her eyes go extra wide. "Do you think maybe you would go in for me?"

Wise to her ways, Mart opened the door and shook his head. "Not a chance, squaw. I'm more inclined to make you go in by yourself but that would only make Mr. Lytell suffer more. If you want the soda, you will need to go in to get it." He slammed his car door and rounded the hood, waiting for her to join him.

After wrinkling her nose at him, she opened the door and joined him. "Well, it was worth a shot!" she exclaimed laughingly. Then she quieted down, trying to be as somber as possible. Together they entered the store. Trixie shuffled her feet and smiled wanly toward the owner of the small store, hoping that he wouldn't yell at her.

Mr. Lytell looked up from the counter, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose, where he was reading the latest edition of _The Sleeypside Sun_. His unpleasant scowl was hard to miss. "Good day to you, Mr. Belden," he greeted Mart, clearly ignoring Trixie. "How is college treating you?"

"College was just fine," Mart answered, moving towards the counter and giving Trixie time to escape and get her soda. He put his hands on the counter and leaned forward, secure in his role as a distracter for his sister and the cantankerous store owner, and hoping that he could make the shopping trip a more pleasant experience for everyone involved. "Dan and I had a great freshman year. He's my roommate, you know."

"I know." Mr. Lytell made it his business to know as much as he could about every inhabitant of Sleepyside and especially about the people who lived on his road.

Trixie nodded towards Mart, grateful for his help, and quickly hurried to the back of the store, doing her best to keep her feet quiet. She quickly found her strawberry pop. Grabbing a six-pack, she joined her brother at the counter, walking carefully through the aisle and taking care not to overturn any of the items in the store. She could only imagine the look of disgust Mr. Lytell would give, having been the recipient of many such looks over the years.

"Are you and Dan Mangan still working together this summer?" Mr. Lytell inquired, still ignoring the blonde girl who had placed the strawberry pop on top of the counter. He made no move to ring it up, always eager to hear more about the citizens of Sleepyside.

Mart smothered a laugh. Trixie was holding herself perfectly still, doing her best not to antagonize the man, while Mr. Lytell was working furiously hard to ignore her. It was actually going surprisingly well, all things considered. She had managed to get her soda without upsetting the owner. Mart could remember many times in the store that weren't as successful. "Why, yes, we are, Mr. Lytell," he answered respectfully. "We finished up with Mrs. Elliott today and have a few more jobs lined up already for the rest of the week."

"Humph," he said, still not addressing Trixie. "And what is your older brother doing this summer? I thought I saw him out in my old jalopy yesterday."

Trixie colored a bit, remembering exactly how Brian had come to own the jalopy. She ducked her head and studied the floor. She could tell that Mart was remembering her "yen for Ben" as well.

He disguised his chuckle with a loud cough. "Yes. Brian. Well, he is going to be an intern this summer for a hospital in New York City. He's only home for a few weeks." Then he put an arm around Trixie's shoulder and made her part of the conversation. "He'll be leaving soon after this one graduates from high school."

Mr. Lytell looked at her down his nose, eyeing her carefully for the first time, and made an incoherent noise. "That is, if she manages to control her impulses and actually graduate. She still has a few more weeks left," he put in snidely.

Trixie's eyes went wide, the words ready to bubble out of her mouth hotly, but she held back when Mart increased the pressure on her shoulders. "I'm sure I'll be able to graduate," she mumbled in her defense under her breath.

"What did you say?" Mr. Lytell barked out and then threw up his hands. "Oh, never mind. With you, it's probably nothing I wanted to hear anyway." He reached for the six-pack and began the methodical routine of ringing it up on his old cash register, taking nearly as long as the efficient clerk at the larger grocery store had needed to ring up their large shopping cart. "Let's see…one six-pack of strawberry soda…plus tax, of course…that will be…three dollars and forty-six cents!"

Trixie reached into the front pocket of her jeans and fished out the amount needed. She placed four crumbled dollars on the counter and blushed some more when Mr. Lytell raised both of his eyebrows, slowly reaching for the money and holding it with distaste. She glared at Mart, who was trying hard to not let his laughter out.

Mr. Lytell made a big display out of unfolding the crumpled bills and making them as neat as he could. Then he placed them in the cash register. With the utmost care, he counted out the correct change and placed it carefully on the counter, the paper receipt on top of it. "Your change, Miss Belden."

Trixie reached for the change but managed to drop most of it on the uneven floor. It clattered to the ground, earning more laughs from Mart and that hated look of disgruntlement from Mr. Lytell. "I'll get it," she muttered out, her face on fire. She bent down quickly and found as many of the coins as she could. She left the dime that had rolled under the counter, figuring Mr. Lytell could keep it.

"Thanks, Mr. Lytell," Mart called out jovially. He grabbed the soda with one hand and his sister's elbow with the other, steering her towards the front of the store. "Have a good day."

Mr. Lytell mumbled something back but they couldn't make it out. "He's probably placing a hex on me," Trixie whispered softly to Mart. "He's never liked me, you know."

"It couldn't have anything to do with the fact that you've never behaved properly in his store when you were younger," Mart answered back. "You set his attitude towards you the first time you ran into his store and knocked over the cans of soup that he had spent most of the morning setting up."

It was true. She couldn't deny it. "Well, let's get home. I may have to start rethinking my favorite drink if this really is the only place I can buy it. It may not be worth the aggravation." She took the six-pack from Mart and gratefully stepped foot onto the ground outside of the store, running into Mart when he came to an abrupt stop.

Mart's mouth dropped open and he pointed towards his car. They weren't the only ones in the tiny parking lot. "Well, look who's here, Trixie. I didn't expect to see him again until tomorrow morning."

Dan was staring at the front doors of the small country store, looking serious, and leaning against his truck. He came to attention the second he saw the two of them leave the store. He didn't wave back. Instead, he waited for them to come to him, his eyes shaded by his dark sunglasses, an unpleasant scowl on his face, and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Dan, what are you doing here? I thought you were heading back to the cabin for a nap after we finished up early." Mart called out, staring intently at his friend. His good cheer was rapidly fading. Something wasn't quite right with him but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Hi, Dan!" She hadn't met his gaze, didn't realize that something was terribly wrong. It had been too good of a day for her, except for Mr. Lytell's shoddy treatment, and had allowed her to believe that her life was returning to normal. Maybe she could relax and put all of the ugliness could be put behind her. Even griping about the shopping trip with her brother and then facing Mr. Lytell in his store had been surprisingly enjoyable. "You won't believe it. I almost made it out of Mr. Lytell's store without making a fool of myself," she said in a loud stage whisper.

"The key word is _almost_," Mart shot back, riffling his hands through her blonde curls, but keeping a close eye on his friend. "She did pretty good, up until the end."

Dan didn't join in the teasing. Instead, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at the two of them. He could see that Mart was already suspicious but Trixie was oblivious. He concentrated on her, willing her to really look at him.

She ducked her head away from Mart, about to make a witty rejoinder, but then she got a good look at Dan. She stopped, perplexed, and stared up into his face. She saw his expression and the bubble of contentment she had spent the entire day in burst painfully, leaving her once again in a realm ruled by shock and frustration. Without asking him to explain, she spun around on her heels, glared at Mart's car, and then gasped sharply. The two tires on the driver's side of Mart's car weren't merely flat. They had been slashed, many times from the looks of it, and by an extremely competent knife. She closed her eyes to block out the sight but it didn't work. It was already imprinted on her brain.

"The other two are just as flat," Dan informed her angrily before she could sprint around to find out for herself. "I needed to get a few things for Mr. Maypenny and myself from Mr. Lytell's. We're a little short on supplies, as usual. Neither one of us are great at shopping. Anyway, I saw your car but something didn't look right, Mart. It took me a minute to figure out what was wrong."

Mart's handsome face was set in lines of impotent fury. He couldn't believe it, although the proof was staring at him right in the face. He bit out a set of angry words and kicked his car for good measure but that did nothing to relieve his anger. It only hurt his big toe.

She could follow directions, despite what others may believe about her, but only when the situation warranted it. Deliberately, Trixie reached into Mart's car for his cell phone. She fished it out of her backpack and handed over it over to Dan. "Can you call the sergeant? He wanted to be told right away if something happened. I think he'll want to know about this." She couldn't make the call. Her fingers were shaking too much; from fear or anger, she couldn't tell. She only had the strength to stare at the tires, or what was left of them.

Dan took the phone from her without answering. He spoke quietly to the dispatcher who took part of the information but didn't put him through to the sergeant. She informed him that the sergeant would be at Mr. Lytell's store in a manner of minutes and would take down the rest of their information then. Flipping the phone shut with a smart click, he studied the two who were standing closely together, wearing the exact same expression on their faces. They looked so much like each other that he would have laughed, if the situation wasn't so serious. "He should be here in a few minutes," he shared grimly.

Mart's eyes were thin slits of brilliantly blue anger. It was rare for him to get angry. He almost didn't know what to do with it. "How the hell something like this happens, in broad daylight, is beyond me." Unfortunately, it wasn't an impossibility. Mr. Lytell's store was isolated, with only the extremely limited traffic of Glen Road running by it. And it worried him more than he cared to admit, even to himself. He reached out for Trixie but she picked that moment to move away, unaware of the comforting hug he had wanted to give her.

Trixie was done playing the victim. Ready to do some investigating, no matter how small or trivial it could be, she shaded her eyes against the sun and scanned the area around them. Nothing. Just the road, the trees, and the store. Then she walked around the car and studied the ground around it. Again, there was nothing, only the hard ground, a few stones, and the shredded remains of the tires. Whoever had done it had been smart and hadn't left a bit of evidence.

He heard the sound of tires against asphalt and pointed in the direction. At least they would be able to report incident. It was a small victory, almost hollow, but it would help. "As usual, he is true to his word. There's the sergeant now," Mart announced.

Her mind was overcome with many different thoughts and feelings. She settled on the one thing that was the most imperative. "What are we going to do with the food?" she wondered after watching the sergeant pull up next to Dan's truck. The three vehicles were taking up the entire parking space in Mr. Lytell's little parking lot. She was vaguely surprised that the cantankerous owner hadn't joined them yet. She threw a glance at the doorway and hoped he didn't. She didn't need him on top of everything else."Most of it will be okay out here but we did buy a lot of stuff that needs to go into the refrigerator." It helped to think about something mundane and trivial. She eyed the groceries and hoped that the items wouldn't spoil.

Mart hadn't thought about the food. "I'll call Dad. He'll want to know, anyway." Mart accepted his phone from Dan and expelled a large breath before completing the unwelcome task. Stepping away from the group, he talked lowly and urgently into the phone. It didn't take long. His father wasn't pleased. Both Trixie and Dan could hear his voice. Trixie winced and looked away. "All done," Mart announced after completing the call. "Dad will be here, sooner than later, I imagine."

Sergeant Molinson sharp eyes hadn't missed a thing. He had seen what had happened the second he had driven past them on Glen Road. He had to bite back an inner groan of frustration. When he hadn't heard anything from Trixie or her family for the entire day, he had hoped that maybe the stalker's activities had come to a halt, once he or she realized that Trixie had talked to the police. It was a futile hope, he now knew. There wasn't anything common about the sight before him. Glancing at the way the tires looked, it seemed to him that the stalker was becoming more brazen and was pissed off, now more than ever. He reluctantly came over to the group, careful to keep any expression of emotion off of his face, flipped open his little black notebook, and prepared to take notes. He skipped greetings. There wasn't a need for them. "Anyone see anything?" he asked, his voice clipped and short.

Trixie, Dan and Mart looked at each other, taken aback by the gruff manner of the sergeant. They couldn't tell that he was bothered by the incident more than he was letting on. As the normal spokesperson for their group, Trixie took a small step forward and went first. She spoke haltingly, "Mart and I were in Mr. Lytell's store. We were shopping, obviously. Probably for about ten minutes, right?" Mart gave a nod of acquiescence when she prompted him. "When we came out, Dan was waiting by the car. Neither of us saw anything, except for the tires, of course."

"How about you, Mr. Mangan?" Sergeant Molinson turned his eyes on the quiet young man.

Dan shook his head, troubled. He wished he had something to share. "Nothing, except for what you see. I'd only been here for a few minutes myself before Trixie and Mart came out of the store. As soon as I realized what had happened, I got out of my truck and waited for them to come out of the store."

"So that gives us, say, roughly about a five to eight minute window of opportunity for the crime to have been committed." Sergeant Molinson glanced around the parking lot, noting how close it was to Glen Road. It would have been extremely easy for the culprit to have completed his work, jumped back in his car, and sped away, with no one the wiser. There simply wasn't any way to track anyone who had been on the road. No witnesses, no security cameras, nothing. "Which way did you arrive from, Dan?"

Dan pointed in the right direction, anticipating the sergeant's next question. "The only person I passed was Mr. Lynch. I think we can rule him out as a suspect."

The sergeant took down the information. He would ask Mr. Lynch later to see if he had noticed anything unusually. "All right. That may help us."

Trixie crossed her arms around her chest to warm herself up and threw an annoyed scowl at tires, inwardly berating herself for wanting to stop and get the strawberry pop. It was stupid but she was feeling responsible. If she hadn't wanted the soda, then maybe this wouldn't have happened.

Sergeant Molinson reviewed the information he had written down. It was pitiful in the extreme and not much of a help. Finding out who was responsible would be nearly impossible, unless someone had witnessed something suspicious, and the chances of finding a witness on quiet Glen Road were slim to none. Then he caught the flash of the dark blue sedan out of the corner of his eyes. "Here's your father," he stated, not looking forward to dealing with an irate father.

Peter Belden pulled his car up quicker than he normally would, squealing his tires in a way that was very uncharacteristic, and parked Mart in. He stared at his son's car, the serious group surrounding it, and wanted to hit something. Since nothing was available, he settled for slamming his car door and stalking over to the group, his handsome face set in lines of worry. He went first to his daughter and gave her a strong hug. "Are you okay, princess?" he murmured softly, calling on his own strength to keep his frustration under control. She didn't need him to fly off the handle.

"Of course," she responded fiercely, hugging him back. She was angry but she wasn't scared, most likely because she wasn't going through it alone. She looked at the people around her and felt a deep sense of gratitude towards them. How could she be scared when she had so many wonderful people in her corner? And there were many more. "I'm a little ticked off but, other than that, I'm fine. I do think that Mart's tires have seen better times, though," she added, hoping to bring a little lightheartedness to the scene.

Mart chocked back a startled laugh, grateful that Trixie was fighting back against the stalker in the only way she possibly could. There were times when she absolutely stunned him. "Atta girl," he told her proudly.

Sergeant Molinson knelt down on the ground and studied the thin black ribbons that the tires had been reduced to. A lot of rage went into the demolition, he thought to himself, unhappy with the entire situation. He jotted it down in his black notebook and studied the information on the incident again. The amount of information that he had frustrated him. He swore under his breath.

Dan lifted his eyes, having heard the string of inventive curses, and filed it away for his own future use, impressed. It was odd to hear the normally cool, collected sergeant reduced to something as routine as swearing. He ran through the recent events in his mind himself but couldn't recall anything that would help with the case, other than Mr. Lynch waving at him as he had passed him on the road.

"Do you need my kids any longer?" Peter inquired, watching the sergeant complete his investigation. He wanted to get them home, where he prayed the famed walls of Crabapple Farm weren't only stretchy but also safe as well.

Sergeant Molinson gave a curt shake of his head and nodded at the second police officer who drove up to join them. "We'll go over the car and the area, see if we can find some shred of evidence." He stopped himself and deferred to Trixie. "That is, if Miss Belden hasn't already beaten us to it."

She rewarded him with a small but nervous smile. "No, not this time. I couldn't find a thing." Needing to keep herself busy and to also get away from the sergeant's inquisitive eyes, she grabbed a set of plastic bags from the cart and started loading them in her father's car. She wanted to get home; the sooner, the better. Mart and Dan immediately jumped in to help her.

Peter used the time to speak privately with the sergeant. "I do not like this," he muttered quietly while the young adults were busy. His face was the stoniest it had ever been and his eyes promised a dark retribution, should he ever get the chance to meet the stalker.

"To tell you the truth, I don't either." The sergeant matched his tone, keeping it low so that the others couldn't hear them. "We've spent a good part of the day going through her files, checking the status of the criminals she's helped to apprehend, and crossing off suspects."

"Is anyone sticking out?" Peter didn't like to think of the large amount of people she had been responsible for putting away, with the willing help of her friends. The list of potential suspects was longer than he would like it to be.

"Nothing definitive, as of yet. We're waiting to hear back from parole officers on a few of them. Hopefully we'll find out more soon. I'll be certain to share anything we find out with you." The odds were in their favor that the suspect was someone in the folders but there was also the small chance it was someone else entirely. In which case, they would be wasting valuable time in their search. The sergeant didn't voice his thoughts. He didn't want to add anymore worries to the ones Peter Belden already had. "We haven't been able to get anything strong on the cell phones, either. They were all prepaid cell phones, used the one time, and then never used again, most likely discarded. All of the calls came from the immediate area, though."

Peter glanced up at the beautiful blue sky. Soft, white puffy clouds floated gently above them while happy spring birds chirped merrily away. How something so ugly could have happened underneath its peaceful brilliance was beyond him. "It's times like this when I wish that her hobby wasn't so dangerous or that she would simply give it up."

"She's much too good at it," Sergeant Molinson admitted but he would never have said that to her face. He didn't want to encourage her. "I'll be in touch."

"Thanks." Peter walked over to his car, which was filled with the groceries. He looked first at Mart and then at Trixie. They were both doing as well as could be expected, he realized with swelling pride. Neither seemed beaten or scared. "I say it's time to go home."

"That's the best idea I've heard all day." Trixie got into the backseat, pushing aside a few plastic bags to make room for herself. She kept her eyes on Mart's car as her father drove slowly away, Dan following slowly behind them, and thinking about what had happened to Mart's tires. She tried to find the reasoning behind it. She couldn't come up with anything other than strong emotions of hate or anger. It was hard to fathom that someone would have it in for her that much. Racking her brain, she tried to review her list of enemies, hoping to come upon the person responsible. Who could she have made that angry? she wondered to herself. Unfortunately, there were a lot of people. She had also learned the chilling fact that the person was armed with a lethal knife. She laid her forehead against the smooth glass and watched the familiar scenery roll by.


	26. Chapter 25

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Twenty-Five

With a loud sigh, Trixie carefully pushed open the door to the cafeteria, a large paper bag in her hands and her backpack slung over one shoulder. She stood in the doorway and glanced around the large room, glad to find it nearly empty, but she hadn't expected anything else. There were only a few stragglers left over from the earlier lunch wave while the smell of the tacos the cafeteria was serving for lunch permeated the air.

Much to her overwhelming surprise, her parents had offered to let her stay home from school for the morning. Their decision had been two-fold. It let her attempt to catch up on some much-needed sleep, as well as hear firsthand the latest news from Sergeant Molinson. They both had felt that their daughter had been put through enough stress and had surprised Trixie, as well as all three of her brothers, when they had announced the evening before that it would be fine with them if she were to skip her morning classes and stay home. Bobby had immediately started complaining, insisting that he needed to sleep in, too. Her mother had merely laughed, ruffled his curls, and ignored his pleas. She had sent him to bed with a disgruntled expression on his young face.

Trixie recalled the excuse her mother had written out for her to hand into the office. "Exhaustion," she mumbled to herself and laughed again. The secretary had accepted it with a look of disdain, probably thinking that she had forged it but Trixie knew that her mother couldn't have been more right. Her sleep last night had been fitful again, with images of sharp knives dancing dangerously through her mind. However, the few extra hours of rest, if not actual sleep, had helped her immensely. She felt as if she could actually make it through the rest of the day.

Trixie ignored the curious looks coming her way from the few students in the cafeteria and walked to the row of tables at the very back of the cafeteria, her head held high. It wasn't their usual spot but she figured that Di and Honey would forgive her. She wanted to be as far away from the rest of their classmates as she could. After dropping her backpack on the small circle table, she opened up the paper bag and started distributing the lunches. "At least we get to eat food from _Wimpy's_ for lunch," she said aloud. It had been an unexpected treat from her brothers, who had insisted on driving her into school after their conference call with Sergeant Molinson had ended. She sat down, facing the wide expanse of the glass doors, and waited for Honey and Di to enter the cafeteria.

A few minutes later the doors blew open and a continuous stream of hungry high-schoolers entered the cafeteria, a laughing, talking and giggling crowd. Blending in with the group, Honey was the first one to spot Trixie. She answered Trixie's wave with one of her own but felt a frown settle across her pretty face as she hurried over to her friend, puzzled by Trixie's choice of seating. "Why are we sitting in Siberia today?" she questioned after pulling out a chair and sitting down, aiming a wistful glance towards their regular table.

"I figured you and Di would like to hear about my morning," Trixie answered calmly and gestured towards their lunch. She arched an eyebrow and grinned merrily. "Plus I didn't want to make the other students jealous. Our lunch is so much better than theirs."

Distracted by the smell of the delicious food, Honey opened the Styrofoam container in front of her, delighted that it held her favorite hamburger and French fries, courtesy of Mike. "Oh, delicious!" she exclaimed happily. "Hamburgers and French fries from _Wimpy's_! This is so much better than what I had planned to eat for lunch. Thanks, Trix."

"You don't need to thank me. Brian and Mart got lunch for us today," Trixie explained before taking a bite out of her hamburger. "They surprised me by stopping in at Wimpy's before dropping me off at school. I have to tell you, every now and then those brothers of mine do something really special."

"Well, it was very thoughtful of them." Honey took a delicate bite out of her hamburger and released a small moan of pure pleasure. "Hmmm. This has got to be the best hamburger I have ever eaten."

From behind them, Di stopped and gave a delicate sniff of the air. "Something smells absolutely wonderful," she put in as she took the only available seat next to Honey, her violet eyes taking in the bountiful lunch spread across the table. After tucking a loose strand of her hair behind an ear, she studied her friends and lifted one expertly plucked eyebrow. "It took me a minute to find you. I was rather put out when I saw that there were sophomores eating at our normal table," she commented lightly, gesturing towards their normal spot. "But then I got a whiff of this heavenly food and I knew it couldn't have been made by our cafeteria staff. It could only have been made by Mike! The smell brought me to you, I hope you know."

"Trixie brought us lunch. Or, more correctly, her brothers bought us lunch," Honey explained in case Di hadn't already figured it out. "But she is solely responsible for our new seating arrangements. She claims she wants it to be quiet so that we can talk." Throwing Trixie an expectant look, she waited patiently for her friend to offer them an explanation.

Di took a dainty bite of her hamburger and followed it with a sip of her milkshake. "Hmmm…strawberry. My favorite! How did you know?" she wondered aloud, tilting her head.

"I didn't," Trixie admitted but then smiled slyly, curious how her friend would react. "Mart must have known it was your favorite. He ordered it for you."

Di flushed to the roots of her dark hair, suddenly finding her napkin very interesting. She played with it, her perfectly painted fingernails displayed beautifully. "That's awful nice of him," she mumbled quietly, trying to ignore the teasing looks coming her way. She took another sip of her milkshake to prevent them from teasing her.

Taking pity on her, Honey quickly let her off the hook. She turned to Trixie and questioned, her lovely hazel eyes curious and a bit bewildered, "So, what happened this morning, Trix? I got your message last night saying that you didn't need a ride to school. But your message was rather garbled. All I could really understand was that you would be coming to school late and that you didn't need us to pick you up. You never said why," Honey finished with a slightly accusatory tone. Trixie always left the most frustrating of messages. She never gave a good explanation. It was a habit that drove Honey, as well as the rest of them, crazy at times.

Trixie put down her hamburger and glanced around. Except for the custodian mopping up a spill on the floor a few tables away and two nearby freshmen engrossed in their Biology books, no one was near them, exactly as she had wanted. She felt it would be safe for them to discuss her morning. "Well, my father was not very happy with what happened yesterday," she began slowly. She had only had a small window of opportunity to discuss with Honey about the incident at Mr. Lytell's store. Mart had been the one to share it with Di.

Both Di and Honey exchanged concerned glances. It had been the only topic of their discussion on the car ride to school. Jim had been uncommonly quiet, keeping his attention focused solely on the road, while he drove them to school, and hadn't joined in at all. "Yeah," Di replied, hating what had happened. She gave a small shudder of disgust. "Mart was not happy, either. He called and talked to me about it for almost an hour yesterday after dinner. He did most of the talking. I merely listened. He did mention that his car has been taken to the police station for further tests and that he won't be able to get it back for a few more days."

Honey had had the honors of sharing the incident with Jim after her quick talk with Trixie. She doubted if she would ever forget the expression that had come over his face. First shock, then anger. Then he had turned a furious shade of red and had high-tailed it down to Mr. Lytell's store, to see the results for himself. He had returned just as angry; the sight of the slashed tires had only added fuel to it. Honey knew him well enough to realize that fear drove the anger. "You should have seen Jim," she shared with the girls. "He was the maddest I have ever seen him."

"So was Brian." Trixie hadn't liked the look that had entered his eyes when she had told him about the tire slashing at Mr. Lytell's. He hadn't looked like the calm Brian she relied on. Instead, he had become someone different, right before her eyes, someone who was dangerous and not the least bit sensible. She rather hoped he never ran into the stalker. She didn't know what he would do if he did. Shaking away the unsettling memory, she continued, "Anyway, my dad decided that he wanted answers so he called Sergeant Molinson and made an appointment to talk with him over the phone this morning. My parents let me sleep in this morning and take part in the phone call. Mart even cancelled his morning with Dan. Then we had a conference call in my father's den, right after Bobby left for school."

"Did you find out who it is?" Di asked naively. The way she figured it, if they knew who the stalker was, then they could arrest him and put him behind bars.

"No, unfortunately," Trixie answered, dropping her head. It bothered her to know that there was some nameless, faceless person out there who had such ready access to her life. There seemed to be nothing she could do to prevent him from popping up and thrusting his unwanted mark on her life. "The sergeant has done a great job of crossing off everyone who it could not be. It seems that all of our enemies are accounted for, Honey. They are either resting harmlessly in jail, without any possible opportunity to complete any of the acts against me, or they are out on parole but are on regular speaking terms with their parole officers." She shrugged her shoulders. "So far, no one has been red-flagged as a suspect."

Honey threw up her hands, disgusted. It had to be a former nemesis. Who else could it be? "But that's impossible, Trix! Are you sure Sergeant Molinson is correct?"

Di considered the information and mentioned slowly, puzzled by what Trixie had said about the parolees, "I wonder about the ones out on parole. You don't suppose that someone could be fooling their parole officer, do you? I mean, what if someone is checking in regularly with them but are using their time for certain extra-curricular activities instead? You hear about things happening like that all the time on the news. It wouldn't be that far-fetched."

"Di, you would make an excellent police officer!" Trixie exclaimed proudly, her blue eyes twinkling. It was the exact conclusion she had come to. In fact, the sergeant had addressed it before the questions had completely formed in her mind. "Sergeant Molinson is on the same train of thought, too. He told us that he is having his police officers re-interview all of the parole officers again. This time, he's making sure that the questions are much more in-depth. He wants to make sure that no one has slipped through the cracks of the system, so to speak. The bad news is that it may take a day or two before everyone can either be cleared or become a person of interest. He promised my father that he will let us know as soon as he finds anything out."

"It's Friday now," Honey muttered, taking in all of the information. She bit her bottom lip, analyzed the information from all sides, and came up with an insightful but disappointing conclusion. "That may mean we won't know anything until Monday. Don't parole officers follow a normal Monday-Friday work week?" She tried to call on her meager knowledge of the criminal justice system but couldn't reach a definitive answer.

"That is a distinct possibility," Trixie replied but she wasn't too worried. "Sergeant Molinson said that he's not going to let the parole officers get away with refusing to answer his officers' questions, even if they have to ask them on Saturday or Sunday. He's not going to let them hide. He told my father that he has ways of getting their personal phone numbers so he'll be calling them at home, if needed, or even sending out officers to interview them personally."

Di broke a French fry in half and then ate it in small bites. "That sounds promising. It really does. Did this make your family feel better?" She remembered how worried Mart had been on the phone, once he had calmed down about his tires. She was not used to seeing Mart that way. He was always so carefree and fun-loving.

"They won't feel better until it's all resolved and someone has been apprehended." And neither will I, Trixie thought to herself but kept her concerns to herself. She wanted to put as good a face on it as she could.

"You know, everyone's making the assumption that it's someone we helped catch," Honey injected thoughtfully into a lull in the conversation, absently dipping a fry into a pile of ketchup. She dropped the fry and stared at Trixie. "But what if it's not? What if it's someone else entirely?"

Trixie jabbed her straw at the ice cubes in her cup, listening to the ice clink together. Leave it to Honey to ask the one question that had been unasked to Sergeant Molinson, as well as the one that was circulating through her mind. She hadn't wanted to bring it up, not wanting to add anymore worries to her family. Plus there was that feeling she had in her bones. It was someone she knew. It had to be. "There's always the chance that I managed to tick off someone else, without realizing it," she replied haltingly, choosing her words carefully. "It would certainly make it harder to identify the person, too, if it's not someone from our past. But I know it's someone from our past, even though all we really have to go on are the prepaid cell phones. That's it. There haven't been any fingerprints or sightings or, well, anything."

"Have they made any progress with the cell phone numbers?" Di wasn't usually so interested in mysteries but she was willing to make an exception, especially since the heart of the mystery seemed to be Trixie, herself, and was dangerously encroaching onto their sacred Bob-White territory.

"None." The knowledge had frustrated her family more than anything else. It was the only true lead the police had and it led absolutely nowhere. "All Sergeant Molinson could tell us was that the phones had been bought from different stores in the upstate New York area, as well as in New York City. They were able to track down a few receipts to some of the sales. So far all of the phones were paid for in cash." Which meant that they couldn't be traced.

The edge of Honey's lips turned down while she digested the information. "This person, whoever it is, has to be smarter than we give them credit for. He or she hasn't made a single mistake."

"You sound like Brian," Trixie noted with a small giggle, not surprised at all that Honey would come to the exact same conclusion as her older brother. "He said words to the same effect to Sergeant Molinson. The sergeant replied that the person must have really planned everything beforehand and must be feeling pretty confident now. He insists that the stalker is bound to make a mistake, sooner or later. The sergeant believes that the more confidence the stalker has, the less likely he is to be as careful. He's going to get cocky and that's going to cost him."

"You keep calling him as a 'he'," Di noted insightfully, frowning at Trixie. "Is that something you know for sure?"

Trixie shook her head, sending her blonde curls flying in charming disarray. "Nope, not at all. It's only another feeling I have, though, one that I can't shake. Somehow, I know that the person doing all of this has to be a man." She wondered if Sergeant Molinson thought the same thing. He also kept referring to the stalker as a man.

Honey knew better than to question her friend's instincts. She looked down at her meal, which was only half-eaten, and felt no desire to finish it. In fact, the smell no longer made her feel hungry. She felt slightly nauseous instead. The topic of their conversation had taken away a good part of her appetite. "Let's talk about something else," she insisted, pushing her food away. She reached across the table and tapped Trixie on the arm. "I've been practically dying of curiosity all morning, wondering where you were at. I had no way of getting in touch with you. I tried calling your house but I kept getting a busy signal." She lifted her eyebrows and sent an accusatory look aimed at Trixie.

Trixie smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that, Honey. With everything that's going on I forgot to tell you." She reached into her backpack and pulled out her borrowed cell phone. "Mart gave me his cell phone to use, now that Sergeant Molinson has mine. He thinks that I need it more than he does right now."

"I could have told you that, Honey," Di put it, astonished that she had known a piece of information that Honey had not. It didn't happen too much.

"That was nice of Mart." Honey quickly pulled out her cell phone. She called up her address book, surprised to see that she didn't have Mart's cell phone number programmed into it. His was the only Bob-White cell phone she was missing. "You'll have to give me Mart's cell number," she informed Trixie after searching through her phone book for it, to no avail. "I don't seem to have it programmed into my cell."

Di felt affronted on Mart's behalf. She drew back and teased, her violet eyes gleaming with mischief, "I bet you have Brian's."

Honey felt her cheeks burn but ignored her, certainly not going to admit that she did. "What is it, Trixie? I'm ready for it"

Trixie rattled off the number easily. "Wasn't it nice of him to let me borrow his phone?" He always came through, no matter how annoying he could be. Her almost-twin was very special, whether she liked to admit it or not. "Moms and Dad were ecstatic with him when I told them about it. It helped take some of the stress off of them a little." She turned on Mart's phone, glad that she didn't have to worry about the threat of odd hang-ups or unwanted text messages. "No messages or missed calls for me. Thank goodness! You can't begin to imagine how much better I feel, knowing that I can answer Mart's phone and not have to worry about it being that horrible unknown someone on the other end." She wasn't afraid to answer Mart's phone, not like she had come to feel about hers. "I'm actually surprised that someone from home hasn't called to check up on me, though. I've only been back at school for twenty minutes."

"They probably figure no news is good news," Di inferred correctly. "Plus they know we're not allowed to use our phones during school hours, except at lunch."

Honey repeated Mart's cell phone number under her breath as she plugged it into her phone. "All in, Trixie!" she announced happily. "Now, if I need to get in touch with you if you're not at home, I know exactly how to do it. How perfectly perfect."

Di cleaned up her spot and took one last sip of her strawberry milkshake. "We only have nine minutes left before our next class," she noted mournfully. "Doesn't it seem like lunch goes by much too fast while the rest of our classes drag on as slowly as molasses?"

"I think that's how every student in high school feels." Trixie couldn't wait to see the end of her high school years and felt awful that she couldn't appreciate the last remaining weeks, not with the threat of the stalker hanging over head.

"You know, I get a text message from my mother this morning," Honey inserted after her friends fell silent. "There have been heavy rainstorms and their flight out of England had to be postponed. My mother and father won't be able to make it home until tomorrow morning at the earliest, depending on the weather, of course."

"That's horrible," Trixie cried, feeling bad for her friend. She knew how much Honey had been looking forward to seeing her parents again. "I'm so sorry, Honey."

Honey waved her hands in the air, choosing not to dwell on it. There wasn't anything she could do to change it. "It'll be okay, Trixie. They will be home sometime within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, plus they do not have another business trip scheduled until after graduation, which I'm really looking forward to. But that's neither here nor there. You see, while I was in home-ec, I had an idea, an absolutely brilliant idea, if I do say so myself." She gave herself a playful pat on her back and waited for her friends to prod her.

Trixie balled up her garbage and put it in the brown bag. "All right, I'll bite. What's your brilliant idea, Honey?"

"I think we should have a sleepover tonight! Wouldn't it be wonderful?" Her honey eyes shone with excitement. "You could both come over for dinner. We could watch movies, stay up late, and talk all night long, if we want to. Doesn't it sound like fun?"

Di gave a moan of disappointment and slammed her hand on the table for good measure. "I can't!" she exclaimed, grimacing. "I have to babysit my sisters tonight. My brothers are spending the night at your house, Trix. They are coming over right after baseball practice tonight. I think your mom is picking them up from the baseball field."

Trixie shuddered at the thought. Three boys, in her house, having their preadolescent version of a sleepover. Oh, the horror, the unimaginable horror. There was no way she was putting herself through it, not if she had an out. "I would love to spend the night with you, Honey," she answered decisively. "I'm sure Moms won't mind. She'll have Brian and Mart to help her with the three little hoodlums." And if her mother seemed unwilling to let her out of the house, she figured she could probably beg for it and win. With everything that was going on, she seriously doubted her mother would tell her no. "I'll ask her when I get home from school but I know she will agree."

"Good." Honey glanced at the clock and saw that they didn't have a lot of time left. "Well, that's about it. We need to get cleaned up and get ready for our afternoon classes." She put her trash in the large brown bag. "I'll see the two of you later. Jim's picking us up at the end of the day."

Trixie was the last one from their table to join the line of students leaving the cafeteria. She got that eerie feeling, the one that she hadn't felt in a few days. Throwing a curious glance over her shoulder, ignoring the students who jostled her carelessly in their haste to get to their class, she scanned the area. But she came up with nothing. Again. "What on earth," she murmured to herself, a bewildered frown settling on her face. She had to be missing something. "But what could it be?" When no answer was forthcoming, she left the cafeteria, more puzzled than she had been before.


	27. Chapter 26

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Twenty-Six

Trixie waved a cheerful goodbye to Jim and Honey and ran up the steps to the front porch. The afternoon at school had flown by. She rather liked the thought of a half-day of classes. She had been much fresher for her afternoon classes than on a regular school day. A few of her teachers had even commented on it, much to her chagrin but not to her surprise. "I'm home!" she announced loudly after letting the screen door slam shut behind her.

Brian lifted his head from the book he had been reading and arched a dark eyebrow, an amused expression on his face. "I think we heard you," he answered wryly from the sofa. Five medical textbooks were spread out before him. "In fact, I think all of the inhabitants of Glen Road heard your arrival."

"Are you studying?" Trixie was brought to a halt in the doorway, her blue eyes incredulous, and a look of feigned horror on her face. She stared at the books as if she had never seen anything like them before and shuddered dramatically. She wouldn't voluntarily open a textbook unless she absolutely had to and could hardly understand why her brother would choose to do so, especially on his summer break. "Why on earth would you be doing that, Brian? Don't you have a good three months before you start classes again?"

"And that is the difference between one sibling graduating first in his class and the other one coming out somewhere closer to the end," Mart replied smartly from the hallway, a bowl of pretzels in his hands, and shaking his head at his sister.

"Ha, ha," she answered back. She didn't mind being in the middle of the pack. For once actually taking the time to actually hang up her backpack, she entered the living room and then flopped down on the sofa next to Brian, being careful to not even look at the stack of thick textbooks with the extremely tiny printing. The thought of reading such intense material made her feel positively overwhelmed. She hoped none of her college textbooks were that intimidating. Glancing around the room, she looked for the one family member who was not present. "So, is Moms around? I have something I need to ask her."

Brian closed the book he had been reading and placed it on top of the table. He wasn't going to get anymore studying done, not with the three-ring circus that was his family. He had learned years ago to not even bother. "She's out back, hanging up the latest load of laundry," he supplied helpfully.

"What do you want to ask her?" Mart inquired, his mouth full of pretzels. He sat down in the recliner with a loud sigh of approval, settling himself in comfortably, and appreciated the effects of his day off. Dan had been more than willing to take their lawn jobs on his own, since Mart had wanted to be present for the conference call with Sergeant Molinson earlier in the morning.

"Gleeps! I may not like to read a textbook unless I absolutely have to but I do have enough manners to know not to talk with my mouth full," she jeered at Mart, her eyes twinkling with mischief, and glad that he had given her the opportunity to tease him back. It didn't happen too much.

Mart made sure to chew extra loud, with his mouth wide open and aimed in Trixie's direction. Brian gave him a look of brotherly disgust, then ignored him and focused on Trixie. "What do you need to talk to Moms about?"

Trixie brushed off a piece of nonexistent lint off her shoulder, glancing at both her brothers from under her sandy lashes, eagerly anticipating their reaction and more than excited that she had an out for the planned evening of mayhem ahead in the Belden household. "Well, I received a very nice invitation today. I have a feeling that both of you are going to be very envious." Pausing dramatically, she waited until she had both of her brothers' undivided attention. "Honey has asked me to spend the night at her house since her parents weren't able to make it home as they had planned. The weather hasn't been good for traveling," she put in as an aside.

Both brothers stared at her in comical expressions of shock. "No, no, no!" Mart exclaimed after he finally found his voice, shaking his head and frantically wondering why he hadn't thought of asking Dan to let him spend the night at the cabin. He had assumed that Trixie would be the one in charge of Bobby and his friends, since she had always had the chore of babysitting the youngest Belden. "That's not fair. You can't do that to us!"

Brian brought his hands together and applauded her ingenuity. "You may not be the valedictorian of your class but you have to be the smartest Belden in our midst. Congratulations, Trix. You're going to be able to escape the chaos brought on by the three amigos."

Mart contemplated the ceiling, unable to believe that Trixie had outmaneuvered them. "Man, this is awful! Outplayed by our only sister," he complained to no one in particular, an unpleasant frown on his face. He tapped his brother on the forearm. "You know that Moms won't tell her no, either, not with everything that's been going on. Brian, we're sunk."

Trixie stood up, made a fancy bow, and gave them a jaunty wave. "Thank you, dear brothers, thank you. I cannot even begin to tell you how delighted I am to have won this round. Please, enjoy your peaceful evening with Bobby, Larry and Terry. I'm going to ask Moms first and then I'm going to pack." She spun around on her heels and practically skipped to the back door, her giggles trailing behind her, as certain as Mart was that their mother would give her permission.

Mart grimaced, shoulders slumped, and slapped a hand to his forehead. "If my tires hadn't been slashed, I believe I would have come up with a similar idea to get out of spending the night here," he commented once he was able to speak words again. "Unfortunately, my brain was befuddled with other worries."

Brian got up and watched Trixie approach their mother through the window. "She's buttering Moms up," he mentioned, watching how Trixie stopped to pick up a pair of jeans and hang them up the clothesline. "It's at times like this when you can almost see the wheels in Trixie's mind working. First she's helping, making small talk with Moms, all the while thinking of the best way she can bring it up." He gave Mart a half-smile. "I can almost guarantee you that she won't bring it up until after all the laundry has been hung up."

Mart joined his brother. He pushed aside a lacy curtain, his snack left on the coffee table, forgotten, and observed the proceedings. "You're right, as usual, Dr. Belden. And now that all of the laundry is on the line, it is time for her to ask the question. Look. I can tell that Trixie is hemming and hawing a bit, trying to make it seem like it's not that big of deal. She's brushing aside a curl, laughing a little and then..." Mart made a fast prediction. "Here it comes. In fact, I predict that our girl Trix is going to be giving our mother a thankful hug in….five, four, three, two, one!" His laugh was low as Trixie clapped her hands together in delight and then threw her arms around Helen, a wide smile on her face, and in perfect timing to Mart's prediction. "And that is game, set, and match, eldest sibling. As I said earlier, we are officially sunk."

Brian shook his head, let the curtain fall back into its place, and slowly headed back to the coffee table. He carefully stacked the books and put them back in his backpack. Stopping on the bottom step, he informed Mart, "I'm heading upstairs to enjoy my remaining few hours of precious peace until Dad brings home the terrible threesome."

Mart was still staring at his sister in awe. In a display of helpfulness, she had picked up the empty laundry basket and was bringing it inside for their mother, smiling the entire way. "She even got out of doing her chores. Way to go, Trixie," he concluded before taking his seat and flipping on the television set.

A few minutes later, Trixie bounded back into the room, her curls flying and the happiest, most normal she had felt in over a week. She aimed a cheeky grin at her almost-twin, which he pointedly ignored but caused him to mumble something inarticulate under his breath before he left the room, and then she pounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time in her hurry. She rushed to her room and started grabbing clothes for her overnight. After stuffing a set of cotton pajamas and a change of clothes hurriedly into her overnight bag, not bothering to make sure that they were folded nicely, she ran down the hall and into the bathroom to get her toiletries. Finally bringing an end to her rush of activity, she took a deep breath and paused in the open doorway to Brian's room. "Hey, Brian. Do you think you'd be willing to either walk me up to Manor House or drive me? I'm not allowed to go by myself, as you well know." She waited for his answer, hoping he would say yes. She highly doubted if Mart would be willing to do it without griping the entire way.

Brian had been expecting the question. He was the most logical choice. "I don't mind at all," he responded. He didn't admit that he would like it even better if he was staying with her at the Manor House. Then he would be able to escape the mayhem that Bobby and his friends always created, as well as spend the evening in close proximity to Honey. But he couldn't resist asking, "But why me? I'm sure Mart wouldn't mind bringing you up."

"Oh, I'm not too certain about that." Trixie covered a chuckle with her hand. "He growled something I couldn't understand at me when I came back in and immediately retreated back to the kitchen, where he's probably now trying to drown his sorrows in a piece or three of Moms' famous chocolate cake."

Thinking that he was a fool to think that he would get any studying done in their house, he placed the textbook aside, yet again, and gave in with good grace. He doubted if he would get a chance to study again until he was back in the student apartment he shared with Jim. "When are you deserting the ship?"

"Right now. Moms said that I didn't need to do my chores and Honey's told me to come up, anytime." She held up her bag, which had literally been stuffed with her things, and smiled winningly at him. "You don't mind? I know I'll be taking you away from your reading…"

"Let's go," he insisted and slipped a sweatshirt on, motioning for her to go first. "It's such a nice day; we'll walk."

"Do you think Mart will be in a better mood when you get home?" Trixie asked while they traveled the well-worn path to Manor House, her overnight bag slung over her shoulder and Mart's trusty cell phone in her back pocket. True to her prediction, he had been chomping down on a large slice of cake when they had passed through the kitchen on their way out the door. He hadn't offered a word in parting, just a glare in her direction. Trixie found the memory hilarious. It was rare when she came out on top.

"You and Mart have such an interesting brother/sister relationship going on. Half the time he only reacts in a way to get you riled up, but you know that, as well as I do. He'll be back to normal when I return," Brian predicted astutely. While he looked the picture of perfect ease, his shrewd eyes took in everything, from the normal sounds of the wildlife to the familiarity of their surroundings. Nothing was out of place or set his senses on alert, which relieved a bit of his anxiety.

Trixie shivered as a cool wind blew through the trees. "I can't remember needing to wear a sweatshirt this far into May. Think about it. Memorial Day is only a little over a week away. Normally Memorial Day weekend is the unofficial start of the summer, with lots of barbeques and even swimming in the lake. I doubt we'll be swimming on Memorial Day this year."

Brian glanced up at the endless blue sky. The sun was bright but the air had a bit of a bite to it. It felt more like early April than mid-May. There was no way the water will have had a chance to warm up. "You're right about that. I'm hoping that the water at the Wheeler's lake will be warm enough to swim in before I have to head back into the City in a few weeks."

"Did everything go well with your supervisor yesterday?" With everything that had happened, she had completely forgotten about it. But, as she thought about it, that wasn't unusual. There were a lot of times when Brian took a backseat to the mysteries she thrust the group into. He was always very patient about it and never seemed to mind that he was not in the limelight.

"Nothing too unusual," he replied easily, summing up his conversation with his supervisor. "I have to go in on Tuesday to meet with her, which is unexpected. She's going on maternity leave a few weeks earlier than expected and wants to make sure that the interns under her know exactly what is expected of them."

"Well, she's not going to have to worry about you, Brian," Trixie put in loyally and clapping him on the back. "I'm sure she knows that. You'll do fine."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he answered, her words making him feel good. He pointed as the Manor House came into sight, towering impressively at the top of the hill, with the brilliant blue of the spring sky as its background. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. "It looks like we're here, Trix."

Trixie ignored the house. She eyed the stables wistfully and bit back a small sigh, watching as Susie pranced around in the paddock. It hurt more than she wanted to share that she couldn't go riding. One more thing to add to the list of changes in her life, thanks to one unidentified stalker. "It would be nice to go riding again," she mumbled quietly.

Brian and Jim had exercised two horses that morning and had plans to do it again tomorrow. He believed Mart and Dan were planning on joining them. But he didn't tell her that, not wanting to rub it in. "It won't be forever, Trixie," he murmured comfortingly. "Life will go back to normal very soon." He hoped everything would be resolved before his internship started, seriously doubting if he would be able to concentrate if his sister's life continued to be monitored by some nameless entity.

"I hope so. As much as I love spending time with the male Bob-Whites, I hate having to ask someone to take me everywhere." She rolled her eyes against the injustice of it all. It had only been for two days. While she appreciated their willingness to protect her and the other girls, she hated having to rely on them. She could only imagine what it would feel like if it continued for any serious length of time. "Honey and Di feel the same way. We hate making pests of ourselves."

"I know I speak for Jim, Dan and Mart when I say that we don't think of it that way. Plus, we wouldn't have it any other way." It was the truth, although Brian knew Mart well enough to realize that he would be the first one to start complaining, if he had to escort his sister for a serious length of time. It came back to the odd dynamics of their almost-twin relationship. Mart certainly wouldn't feel that way about Di or Honey. "Come on. Let's go in."

They crossed the large front lawn, a vivid green with cheerful flowers artfully arranged in attractive flower beds, and stood on the threshold to their friends' home. Brian knocked for her. It wasn't even a second before the door was thrown opened in response. "Trixie! You're here!" Honey sang out gaily, as if it had been hours since she had seen her friend and not merely forty-five minutes since they had dropped her off at Crabapple Farm. She threw her arms around Trixie, not noticing the other guest. "I knew it! I knew your mother would say yes!"

Trixie hugged her back, amazed by how good it felt to be doing something so routine and how much she looked forward to the evening. She vowed then and there not to bring up any of the unpleasantness and to keep the evening as normal as possible. "It gets better, Honey!," she exclaimed blithely. "You're not going to believe it but I don't even have to my chores until tomorrow when I get home."

"How you always get out of your chores so easily is beyond me," Brian chimed in, smiling at the sight of the two friends. "Moms and Dad have never been so generous with me or Mart and definitely not Bobby."

Honey jumped back, startled, and pressed a hand to her heart, willing it to stop racing at the sound of his deep voice. She stepped back from Trixie, tucked a strand of her honey-colored hair that had escaped her ponytail in an attempt to compose herself, and fervently wished that she had changed into something more appealing than a pair of old, faded jeans, well-worn sneakers and a dark pink sweatshirt. But then she had only expected Trixie, not her handsome, older brother. "Hi, Brian," she managed to get out past the sudden dryness in her throat.

"Hello, Honey," he responded, unaware of the turmoil swirling within the apparently calm young woman in front of him. "It was my chore to make sure that my sister arrived here, safe and sound, and ready for your sleepover."

"Chore, huh? I resent that." Trixie gave him a playful punch in the shoulder, although she was secretly delighted to have the two of them together, well aware that privacy was something to be prized in their group. She eyed Brian and Honey closely and thought that maybe she should attempt to play matchmaker. The two needed a boost. She was privy to Honey's feelings about her brother and, while Brian had never shared anything of such a personal nature with her, she would have to be deaf, dumb and blind to not realize that he saw something special in her friend. It was worth a shot, she decided with a small shrug of her shoulder, and rapidly formed a strategy.

"Like I said earlier, I've never been as good as you about getting out of chores. I probably have a few waiting for me now, since you won't be around to help with dinner." His easy smile took the slight sting out of his words, showing her that he didn't mind helping. Hooking his thumb towards the path, he started his farewells. "Well, Honey, tell Jim I said hi. I'm going to have to get home before Mart thinks I've abandoned the crowded ship that is Crabapple Farm, too."

"It's always nice to see you," Honey replied inanely, a becoming flush stealing across her cheeks, and twisting her hands together, the only sign that she was feeling nervous.

Trixie observed the two, wondering why Honey had the ability to blush beautifully while she certainly did not. When she flushed, it felt like her cheeks were on fire. It must be the breeding, she thought with an inward chuckle, and then noticed that both of them were working too hard at trying not to look at the other and were each failing miserably. It was time for a prod in the right direction. "I'll take my bag up to your room, Honey," she announced quickly and suddenly. "I'll be back in a few minutes." She brushed past the two of them, entered the house without saying goodbye and swiftly headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, as was her normal habit, and biting her lips to keep from laughing out loud. It may not have been the most subtle way of giving the two some time alone but it certainly was effective.

Honey sent a long, telling look after Trixie, silently promising a retribution when she got the chance, before turning back to face Brian, a polite smile pinned to her lips. "Why would Mart think you're abandoning ship?" she wondered aloud.

"Oh, I'm sure Trixie told you earlier. Bobby's having a sleepover, too. At our house. With Larry and Terry Lynch." He added in the extra information, giving a comical shiver at the thought. "Can you imagine? It promises to be a lively time at our house tonight. You'll probably be able to hear all of their crazy shenanigans up here," Brian joked with a deep chuckle.

"That's right!" Honey shook her head. The sunlight bounced off of her small gold hoops and drew his eyes immediately to her face but she didn't notice it. She was back to twisting her hands together. "I forgot about that. Trixie told me at lunch, of course. It was awfully nice of you and Mart to buy us lunch, by the way. The lunch was delicious. And then, Trixie was absolutely delighted when I asked her to spend the night." She felt her blush deepen at her ramblings and prayed for a hole to open up and swallow her whole.

"You two managed to outmaneuver Mart and I. Both of us wish that we had thought of something comparable in order to get out of being in our house for the night. Our parents wouldn't have let all of us escape so I guess Trixie is the lucky one tonight." Brian felt the urge to shuffle his feet but refused to give in to it. He stuffed his hands in his pockets since they were itching to feel the smoothness of her hair. "Trixie gave you the credit for her out."

"The idea came to me quite suddenly. I thought of it at lunchtime, after Trixie was telling us about her morning. My mother told me that they wouldn't be getting in until tomorrow, you know," Honey replied, feeling flustered, and wishing that she could say something witty or memorable. "Only Trixie could come, though. Di wasn't able to. Obviously. She's watching her sisters tonight. But you probably already know that, too."

"Yeah. Moms mentioned that Di has the easiest job tonight." Why it was so easy for him to ace his academic work but nearly impossible for him to carry on a conversation with Honey Wheeler was beyond him. Maybe it because Honey was more important to him than the work, whether he wanted to admit it or not. "Think of me tonight."

Always. But she didn't say it out loud. "Have a good night, Brian. I hope it goes well." She offered him a small smile.

It was going to be a portrait of pure, preadolescent hell. He didn't even want to think about the trouble the three boys would get into. "There's not much of a chance of that. We'll be lucky if the house is still standing in the morning. Why my parents agreed to it after the last fiasco is beyond me." He turned to go, sent one last look over his shoulder, and filed her every feature into his memory. "Enjoy your night, Honey."

Honey watched him as he walked away, noting the broad shoulders that looked like they could carry the entire world on them if it was required of him, and slowly closed the doors. Then her eyes narrowed as she stared up the long flight of stairs and she thought of her friend who had thrust her into such an awkward situation. "Oh, Trixie, how could you?" she mumbled to herself, vowing to get even in some way, shape or form. And then she smiled, a slow, satisfied and cunning smile that her friends would have been shocked to see on her face. Her unsuspecting victim was coming her way, ready to be her vehicle of retribution. "Turn-about is fair play, isn't it?" She positioned herself near the doorway to the dining room and waited for her prey, schooling her features.

Jim came into view, whistling lowly, and carrying a few movies in his hands. Since Honey was having a guest over, he figured he would stay out of their way and spend most of the time in his room. He could tell that Trixie could benefit from the normalcy of a regular evening. So what if he doubted if he would get any sleep, with her only a hallway and a closed door away? He didn't need any, anyway. "Hi, Honey," he muttered absently and moved towards the stairs.

"Hey, Jim," Honey replied back, her eyes wide and deceptively innocent, her plan taken shape in her mind. She could have done better, had she been given at least a few more minutes to plan it out, but time was not her friend right now, and she could make do with it. And a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed friend needed to be taught a little lesson. She pointed towards the kitchen. "Miss Trask asked me to meet her in the kitchen for a few minutes. I'm not sure why. It probably has something to do with the weekly grocery shopping or menus or something. Would you mind running up to my room and getting my cell phone? Thanks!" she breathed out and hurriedly turned on her heel to flee the room before he could see the holes in her request. It was flimsy in the extreme but all she could think of to get him into her room. "You can bring it to the kitchen. I'll get it from you in a few minutes," she said over her shoulder.

About to ask her why she needed it, he was cut off by the sight of her rapidly departing back. Obviously, a refusal wouldn't be accepted. "Okay, then. I guess." He sent one last puzzled glance her way, shrugged an athletic shoulder, and started to climb the stairs, unable to figure out why she would need her cell phone and why Miss Trask needed to meet with her in the kitchen. It didn't make much sense to him but he chose not to question it.

The thick carpeting muffled his footsteps. He stopped at his room first, dropping off the movies. Then, noticing that his sister's door was open, he skipped knocking and walked right in where he was brought up short by something he hadn't expected to see. A denim clad bottom, to be exact, one he knew a little too well, surely much better than either of her brothers would like him to. He stopped, didn't announce his arrival, crossed his arms over his chest and waited with a smile of pure male approval for the appropriate time to announce his arrival. He was more than willing to take the time to wait.

On her hands and knees, her back to the door, Trixie was frowning and frustrated, reaching for Honey's watch, and grumbling about her clumsiness under her breath, completely unaware that she now had a very interested audience, carefully watching her every move. While she had been unpacking her overnight bag and placing her items on the guest bed, she had tripped on one of Honey's attractive accent rugs and had accidently bumped into the nightstand, sending the small watch to the floor. She had managed to catch the bed to keep from falling herself but hadn't seen where the watch had ended up. "Where can you be?" she asked the inanimate object, not really expecting the thing to talk back to her. She finally spotted it wedged between the wall and the nightstand's leg. With a small cry of success, she reached for it, got it, sat back, and held it aloft. "Gotcha!" she exclaimed with a huge sigh of relief, happy she hadn't lost the expensive watch.

Jim smothered a laugh from behind, alerting her to his presence, having enjoyed the show immensely. There was something to be said for watching Trixie in action. She always seemed to be study in motion. He loved it when she whipped her head around, sending her blonde curls flying haphazardly around her face in the way he admired the most, and causing him to grin at her.

The cursed flush she had been thinking about earlier returned with a vengeance. She felt it work its way up from the tips of her toes to her forehead in record time, turning her skin to what she was convinced to a shade of beet red. Despising it, now more than ever, she put her hand on Honey's bed and slowly regained her footing, going as careful as possible. At least she didn't feel like she was at such a disadvantage, now that she was back on two feet. "Jim. I didn't know you were there."

"Honey asked me to stop in and get her cell phone," he answered, laughter still lurking deep within his emerald green eyes. It was curiously odd and thrilling at the same time to catch Trixie off-balance. It didn't happen too much. He would have to make plans to try it again.

"I'll be glad to bring it to her," Trixie offered, feeling like the village idiot, and ashamed of her clumsiness again. She had no clue that Jim never thought badly of anything she did and appreciated all aspects of her. She added slowly, "I saw her a few minutes ago. I didn't know she needed it."

"She asked me to get it for her when I ran into her downstairs. She had to meet Miss Trask in the kitchen." Jim stood aside for her as she passed him. "I think they were meeting about grocery shopping or something like that. I'm not sure. It was rather confusing."

Trixie glanced up at the ceiling, realizing exactly what Honey had done, and was very impressed with her friend's ingenuity. She didn't think that she would try to throw Honey and Brian together again. Her friend was much better at it than she was. She possessed a cunningness that Trixie hadn't expected or anticipated. "I'll see you later, Jim."

"Trixie," Jim called out when she reached the doorway, still amused, and still watching her, not that there was anything unusual in that. He grabbed the cell phone from Honey's dresser and held it out towards her. "I think you're forgetting something."

She didn't meet his eyes as she reached for it. "Thanks," she mumbled under her breath and, with as much dignity as she could muster, left the room, being sure to take each step slowly and carefully. She didn't want to add another fall to her rather disastrous few minutes in Honey's room. She had to concede the point. Honey was much better at manipulating a situation than she was.


	28. Chapter 27

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Honey reached over and turned off the lamp by her bed with a quick flick of her thin wrist, casting the room into relative darkness. The only source of light was the thin moonlight that spilled through the window. It had been a fun evening of chatting, snacking, and watching movies, with absolutely no mention of the darkly serious situation hovering over them like a flock of hungry buzzards. It seemed like both girls had made a silent pact to not discuss it, much to their collective relief. "I don't know about you but I am tired!" she exclaimed to Trixie. After fluffing up her pillow a few times, she reclined back against it and yawned broadly. "It's been a long day for both of us. You've got to go to work tomorrow, too."

Trixie copied her and cuddled under her blanket on the guest bed. "I've had a lot of fun," she shared gratefully. The evening had been just what she needed. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so content and normal. Then she glanced in the direction of her home and released a series of happy giggles. "I can only imagine what is happening at my house right now."

Honey laughed with her. "You'll hear about it tomorrow, if I know Mart," she chimed in correctly, with a small shake of her honey-colored head. "He'll have a list of complaints for you a mile long, and probably most of them exaggerated. He'll never let you hear the end of it, Trixie."

"You know my brother extremely well, Honey. I'm already preparing myself for it." Trixie settled back against the thick pillows and pulled the comfortable covers up around her. "I'm happy that I was able to spend the night over here tonight. It was just what I needed. Thanks for inviting me." She covered a yawn. "Sleep well, Honey."

"G'night!" Honey mumbled back, turning her back to Trixie. Her eyes were closed and she was already drifting off to sleep.

Trixie listened to the soothing sound of her friend's even breathing, impressed that Honey could have fallen asleep, and wished that she had the ability to find sleep that easily. Instead, her overly active mind refused to shut itself off. She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, her hands playing with the fringe on the blanket. Now that she had all the time in the world to think, she kept running through the various events, cataloguing them by time and place, and trying to put her finger on what she was missing. She was close to figuring an important piece of the puzzle out, she could almost feel it, but it was just beyond her reach. Groaning in frustration, she flopped onto her back and tried to achieve at least a mediocre amount of sleep.

The unmistakable vibration of Mart's cell phone interrupted her poor attempt at sleep. Pushing aside the covers, she gingerly reached for the vibrating phone on the nightstand, keeping a close eye on Honey, and doing her best to move quietly and not wake her up. Breathing a sigh of relief, Trixie saw that she was still deep in sleep. Then she flipped open the phone, read the text message and had her feet figuratively taken out from under her. The false feeling of security that she had been living in since she had been given Mart's phone crumbled like a tower built out of thin playing cards. The phone fell noiselessly to the covers, its bright words mocking her.

Pale white moonlight danced across the wall in front of her. She stared at it, the black words from the text floating in front of her face, teasing and taunting her with their boldness. "Thought you could fool me? No such luck. Enjoy your sleepover," the message had read, again from a new and unknown number. Breathing deep didn't help to alleviate the various feelings rampaging through her. Closing her eyes did nothing, either. It suddenly felt like the four painted walls were sinking in. The need to get out of the room was powerful. She threw back the covers and tiptoed as quietly as she could to the door. Taking extra care, she opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Leaving the door slightly opened slightly, she was thankful to see that she was alone.

Once in the darkened hallway, she leaned against the wall, the damn cell phone in her hand. The urge to toss it against the wall was strong. She didn't. Instead, she turned sharply to walk off the conflicting feelings of anger and fright but only managed to bump into a small decorative table instead.

Flinching against the loud noise of the table slamming against the wall, she reached wildly for the vase of flowers on the top of the table that were about to topple off. "Oh, gleeps!" Trixie cried out, forgetting to be quiet. She managed to hold the vase where it should be, miraculously without spilling any water or any flowers, and looked up, strongly hoping that she hadn't woken anyone up.

Luck was not her friend and had not been for awhile. She didn't need to see who came out of the room when she heard the door open. She knew who was investigating the noise in the hallway. At least the dark of the night wouldn't allow her blush to show. She slowly straightened her body and brought her eyes to meet his, frantically wondering what the odds were about making herself look like a fool twice in one day in front of him.

"What are you doing up? Is everything all right?" Instantly concerned, Jim stepped into the hallway and took the three necessary steps to reach her side.

Trixie made sure that the vase would stand on its own without toppling over. Then she bent down to retrieve the cell she had dropped in her hurry to catch the vase. Wordlessly, she handed over the cell phone to him and waited while he quickly read it. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked beyond him, into his room, and frowned. His bed was still made. The red digital numbers on his alarm clock told her that it was almost midnight. She tilted her head, curious as to why he hadn't fallen asleep yet.

Lines formed on his forehead. He read the words, felt the impotent anger build up within him again, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself down. She didn't need a display of the famous Frayne temper. "You have got to be kidding me," he complained fiercely, the only outlet for his anger that he gave himself. He tried to study her face but couldn't get a good read on it. Her expression was shadowed by the dark.

"My thoughts exactly." Her voice was barely above a whisper. She pointed to the cracked-open door. "We need to be quiet, Jim. Somehow Honey managed to still sleep through all the noise I just made. She must be very tired." She made a move as if to go into his room.

He took her elbow, halted her, and started guided her down the hall. "Come on," he mumbled under his breath, pocketing Mart's cell phone.

"Where are we going?" Trixie questioned quietly, doing her best to keep up with his longer strides, and throwing an inquisitive glance back at his room, confused. To her, it had been the most logical place to go.

"We need to find someplace to talk," he murmured back, slowing his pace so that she had an easier time of keeping up with him.

"Couldn't we talk in your room?" She gave him a puzzled look.

He stopped at the end of the hallway, in front of a large window, and studied her face. What he found there was complete innocence. She didn't have a clue, that much was obvious. "That's probably not the best idea," he responded, finding it hard not to chuckle at her bewildered expression. He went on to carefully explain, "I doubt if either of our parents would like it overly much. If my parents didn't kill me, I'm sure that yours would skin me alive." He waited for her to start moving again.

She stood still, unable to comprehend what he was trying to explain to her. "But…really? Why?" He didn't answer, only lifted his eyebrows at her, and then she willingly followed along as they went down the stairs. But it slowly came to her, the reason why, and with a gentle slap in the face. Midnight; in his room, unchaperoned, and in their pajamas. Definitely not the best of ideas; certainly not one that either set of parents would condone. "Oh, well, I guess you are right," she finally responded back, with a little tint of wonder to her voice.

"Let's head to the kitchen." It would afford privacy but was open enough that if someone were to walk in on them, it wouldn't look like a midnight tryst, planned or accidental. He led the way and flipped on a single light switch, bathing the area in a gentle glow from the recessed lighting but not flooding it. He went straight to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, his back to her. "Do you want anything to drink, Trix?" He turned around, didn't hear her negative answer. For the first time he realized that she was wearing simple cotton pajamas. The shirt was bright blue, with tiny sleeves that left a great deal of arm exposed, and ended a hair above the waistband of her pants. The pajama bottoms were striped in vivid blues and greens and were thin enough to mold to the contours of her legs. White anklet socks kept her feet warmed.

Her curls did their well-known dance when she shook her head and took a spot at the small kitchen table. Oblivious to the effect her state of dress was having on him, she took in the large, pristine kitchen. It had been awhile since she had been in it. Somehow, she had forgotten how big it was. Almost three of her kitchens could fit inside it. Stainless steel appliances were lined up, ready to be used, while pots and pans dangled from above. She reached for a napkin and absently played with it, gently folding and unfolding it, until she tore it into two pieces, and thought back to her newest contact with the stalker.

Grateful that she had taken a seat, Jim carefully gauged the parade of emotions that went across her face, correctly guessing the current path of her thoughts. He leaned against the counter, ankles crossed, and gave her the time she needed until she started to share. It took a few minutes before she was ready, as he knew it would.

"I've been doing a little thinking," she finally began, her words slow and deliberate and the napkin shredded into tiny pieces.

"I can see that." Gaze hooded, he waited patiently for more. There was no sense in rushing her. She would get to it, at her own pace. His eyes never left her face, letting her know without words that he was ready to listen.

She smiled at him, and then dropped her gaze as she finally noticed his clothing. A dark green t-shirt that deepened the emerald of his eyes; gray sweatpants that were baggy and covered his long limbs; and bare feet. She forced her eyes to meet his after her perusal, a bit of red to her cheeks, and explained in a halting voice, "It really started at lunchtime, when I was leaving the cafeteria. I started getting this feeling. You know how I get those," she added with a small snicker, aimed entirely at herself. "You see, Jim, I know I've been missing something about all this mess and I've been trying to put it all together."

"What have you come up with?" Although he wasn't that thirsty, he took a sip of his water to give her time to formulate a response.

She slid her eyes away from his while she mentally pieced together the different events. Her finger tapped rhythmically against the tiled table top. "I really believe that I'm onto something here. The text message has confirmed something that I've just begun to suspect."

He took a chair out and sat down across from her, staring intently at her when she came to a stop. "Explain, Trixie."

She reached under the table, a bundle of nervous energy, and started running her hands up and down her thighs, needing to keep at least part of her body in motion. "I've been going through everything that's happened, filing it away in my mind. As you know, many of the events that have happened have been at my school. It's where I got the note, where I first got the strange feeling that I was being watched, and, of course, where my hat was returned to me."

"You're thinking there's a connection between school and the stalker," he inferred correctly. He leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head, and gave a curt nod.

"There has to be a connection," she insisted strongly. "You'll think so, once I tell you this." Taking a deep breath, the words came out on a rush. "There was no way that he could have known that I changed cell phones. If anything, he should still be calling or texting my old phone, not trying to contact me on Mart's. He shouldn't know about the cell phone switch."

He placed his hand in his pocket, felt the object of their conversation, and then spoke the obvious. "He knows now, Trixie."

"And there's only one way he could have found out," she announced triumphantly, placing her hands on the table and bending forward across it. She grabbed his hand and held on tightly before offering, "You see, Jim, I gave Honey Mart's cell phone number today at lunch. She didn't have it. He had to find out then."

Jim sat back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. He had known the girls long enough to realize that they didn't worry too much about keeping their voices down when they were conversing, either in public or in private. That practice had gotten them into trouble before. It was entirely possible that they could have been overheard. "And now you get a text," he stated slowly and simply.

"Exactly." The puzzle wasn't complete but it was finally taking shape. She was only missing one very important detail: the identity. "He had to have overheard us. There's no other option. Honey, Di and I are never that quiet but you, as well as the rest of the Bob-Whites, know that." Then a new thought hit her, blinding her with its brilliance. Her mouth dropped open before the words came out on a rush. "Oh, my…I feel so stupid," she mumbled, her eyes showing her astonishment. "I wouldn't be surprised at all if the stalker has been eavesdropping on us all along. He could easily have overheard the three of us making plans, like for me riding with Honey last Saturday or planning the picnic at the lake last Sunday, and that's how he managed to show up at those places." She gave a sage nod of her head as it all came together. "Then, as I said before, it's obvious that he heard us talking today about my new cell number and the sleepover."

The torrent of words came to an end. He digested the wealth of information she had given him before asking, "Where were you?"

"In the cafeteria." She thought back but couldn't remember anyone suspicious sticking out. She had spent most of her time focused on Honey and Di and on the wonderful lunch from Wimpy's. "I got there first so I picked a table in the back of the cafeteria. I can't remember anyone being near us, other than a few students who were quietly studying." She wracked her brain but couldn't come up with another adult in the midst. She couldn't even remember the adults on lunch duty.

Jim did not like what he was hearing and definitely did not like the conclusion he was drawing. "If what you're saying is true, then that would mean…"

"That the stalker has to be someone at the school!" Trixie interrupted excitedly. She dropped back in her seat, suddenly mentally exhausted. Pursing her lips together, she was pleased with her deductions but frustrated with herself that she hadn't seen it beforehand. "It's the only logical explanation. I can't see it being a student at all. That would be too far-fetched. First of all, I can't imagine that I would have ticked anyone off that much. Not only that but there's been too much thought and money invested into this scheme. Cash isn't that readily available to a teenager and most of their time is spent on school or their friends. That would have to mean that it would have to be someone on the staff."

She had a lot of valid points. He couldn't formulate an argument against any of them. "There are a lot of employees," he mused aloud, rubbing the fresh stubble that had formed on his chin, and considered her suspicions.

Trixie brushed aside her curls and made a list of the people on staff. "Teachers, subs, guidance counselors, secretaries, paras, custodians, cooks…" She paused to see if there were any others but couldn't come up with any. "I think that's about it." Then she gave a low chuckle. "I really can't see it being one of the regular teachers. I know they have been frustrated with me over the past four years but I can't imagine Mr. Jenkins wanting to stalk me because I suck at trigonometry, can you?"

"Come on, Trix. You're smarter than that." He didn't join in her laughter. He never liked it when she put herself down. Then he thought about the other incidents that could not be connected to the school and brought them up carefully, not wanting to insult her. "But what about the Country Club? You mentioned a few odd things that happened there, like the scratch on your mother's car after your induction meeting. You also told me that you felt watched there, too."

"Don't you see?" She bounced in her chair and tapped his forearm again, rejuvenated. "There's a connection between the school and the Country Club. There has to be! The stalker has to either work at both places or he must work at the school and be a member of the Country Club. It's the only plausible explanation. You can't be on the Country Club premises unless you are a member or an employee. And it proves once again that he overheard our plans. He would have known that Honey, Di and I were working at the Country Club. He would have known that we had our induction meeting last Sunday. He would also have known about our weeknight shifts, too." She recalled the flash of something she had seen during her work night, as well as the loud crash she had heard. It was certainly starting to come together. "That only leaves the tire incident unaccounted for," she whispered lowly. Biting her lip, she considered what she knew about the event but couldn't find anything conclusive to tie it to either the school or the Country Club.

He contemplated her reasoning but couldn't come up with a single flaw. She was making a lot of sense. "All right. We'll share this with Sergeant Molinson in the morning, when we tell him about the newest text message. Then he can start pulling the employee records from both places, as well as the guest list from the Country Club."

A new thought blinded her with its possibilities. "There may even be a correlation between the records and his investigation into my files." She was practically beaming with excitement. All the pieces were fitting together so neatly. "Wouldn't that be wonderful? If all goes well, maybe we'll know who it is by tomorrow night."

'Wonderful' was not the adjective he would use to describe the situation. "I wouldn't pin my hopes on that," he warned her but was impressed with her ingenuity. Only Trixie could get so excited about piecing together the events of a person who was stalking her. "But I can picture the rest of what you are saying very clearly, Trixie. For what it's worth, I think you're right on the money."

She grinned at him, pleased to have his approval. Now that she had a clear path ahead of her, she felt much better and more equipped to deal with the situation. "I'm glad you agree with me. I already know what Sergeant Molinson's going to say, though. He's going to try and poke holes in my theory. Can't you already hear him trying to say that it could be someone else listening in on our conversations?" Pretending to be the sergeant, she uttered in as deep a voice as she could muster, "Now, Miss Belden, there's always the slim chance that there's a student acting as an informant." Then she collapsed into an almost uncontrollable fit of giggles. "But I don't see that as a viable option. Do you? It has to be an adult and it has to be someone at my school. I know it, Jim. I can feel it."

He could, too. He had a strong suspicion that she wouldn't be going back to school, once her parents heard her thoughts, especially after Sergeant Molinson agreed with her. She would be completing her work from home until the issue was resolved. "Well, we have a good plan of action here, Trix. We'll go upstairs, try to get some sleep, and call Sergeant Molinson in the morning. He'll take it from there."

She practically bounded out of her chair, feeling much more buoyant now than she had when she had left her bed and read her newest text. Clapping her hands together, she announced happily, "This is so exciting, Jim. I only wish that Sergeant Molinson would let me help him search through the records. I know without a doubt that I would be able to find the connection immediately."

Stunned, Jim stopped and stared at her. There really wasn't much that could keep her down, not for too long. He shouldn't be surprised. He had known her long enough to realize how effervescent she really was. "He won't even let you look at your own files," he responded teasingly. "I seriously doubt if he'll let you get your paws on confidential personnel information."

One of her sleeves slid down. Carelessly, she reached up and tugged it back up her shoulder, her blue eyes twinkling with mirth. "You're right, as usual."

He didn't hear her. He had caught the movement, saw the bare skin of her shoulder before she had covered it up, and came to the quick realization that had him swearing inwardly at himself. She wasn't wearing a bra. Of course she wouldn't be. Women generally didn't wear them to sleep in. That was a piece of information he could have done without. He didn't know if he could take much more and had to fight the sudden urge to bang his head off the wall.

"Jim?" A question in her voice, she placed her hand on his arm and waited until he looked down at her. It was odd for him to be the one daydreaming. That occupation was generally left to her. "Did you hear what I said?"

He forced his eyes to remain on hers, and not to roam towards two tempting points southward. "Sorry, Trix," he apologized, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears.

"That's okay," she quickly assured him, not insulted in the least. She flicked off the light and walked out of the kitchen. "I was only wondering what time would be a good idea to call Sergeant Molinson."

"First thing in the morning. He'll be able to get started right away. He'll have to get the okay to look through the records first." It took a moment but he was able to answer her. Then he followed her out of the kitchen, intentionally staying a step behind her as they made their way back up to the second story of the large house. "Wait here," he ordered her when they reached the bedrooms.

Trixie couldn't stay behind. She took three impulsive steps into his room, forgetting that it was best for them not to be in a bedroom together, and curiously watched his every movement. She was unable to keep silent. "What are you doing, Jim?"

He whipped his head around, although he shouldn't have been surprised that she had followed him into his room. She was Trixie, after all. He held up his cell phone and charger, which he had just unplugged, and approached her. "I don't want you to be without a cell phone, not with everything that's been going on. You can have mine, Trixie."

"Thank you." She accepted it, touched by the offer, and unable to refuse it. She held it up, finding the whole scenario to be oddly, entertainingly humorous. "It's too funny. I feel like I'm playing a game of musical cell phones right now. First mine, then Mart's, and now yours."

"We'll let everyone know about the switch tomorrow…well, later today," Jim corrected himself after noting the time on his alarm clock with a great deal of shock. It was after one o'clock in the morning. They had spent well over an hour together.

"No one is going to be able to keep up with it," she informed him. "No one. By the time this is all over we're going to need our own Bob-White phone book, just to get in touch with each other!" Giggling, she turned to him and gave him a light hug. It was a simple thing, something she had done countless times, and nothing unusual. At least, not to her. "Thanks again, Jim."

He stiffened before his arms slowly wound their way around her, pulling her close to him, all the while thinking about the delicious things he would like to do with her in the privacy of his room. It wouldn't take much. A close of the door, a quick tug of the hand, and then there would be a stumbling dance before they would tumble onto his bed. Jim played out what could happen in his mind but knowing it would be impossible, not without having his honor torn into tatters. He reluctantly settled for second best; the feel of her body against his, and gathered her even more tightly against him. Dropping his head on top of hers, reveling in the soft, silkiness of her curls, he refused to give in to the tantalizing images flirting around the corners of his mind. Instead, he gave a soft kiss to the top of her forehead before he knew what he was doing.

Trixie felt the pressure of the kiss, as well as the tightness of the embrace. She held on, her arms resting around his waist, just as tightly, just as long, and felt her heart start to beat out an erratic rhythm while her eyes grew to twice their normal size. Holding hands was nothing new. Neither was sharing a hug. But nothing in their repertoire was similar or had prepared her for an experience quite like this. Something seemed to be changing, something seemed to be different, but she didn't have the experience or the confidence to know what. It left her a little breathless, a little unsure, but also a little excited. As she laid her cheek against his chest, she could almost hear the whispering sound of a page turning, as if they had left behind the familiar and the old and entered a new and unchartered chapter in their relationship.

Eventually he drew back, knowing that if he held on any longer that they may very well end up on his bed, and to hell with his promise to his parents. But he had to still have some form of contact. He kept his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. "We should probably try to get some sleep. We'll need to get up early to call the station." His voice sounded husky to his own ears.

"Right," she got out past the mush her brain had turned into, vaguely recalling that she needed to talk to the sergeant about her something important, and shaking her head in agreement. "Yes. Sergeant Molinson. Phone call." Somehow the ability to string together a full sentence was beyond her capabilities at the moment.

She was too adorable. His thumb rubbed a series of small circles on her back before he broke contact. "Try to get some sleep, Trixie. You've got a busy day ahead of you."

Trixie closed her eyes. It seemed easier to uphold her end of the conversation without looking at him. "It won't matter. I've started to learn how to function without it. I'm not going to get much sleep tonight, anyway," she informed him, gripping her new cell phone and charger, and took a few steps to the door.

"Me, neither," he answered quietly back.

Trixie was brought up short. She turned back to look at him, an incredulous expression on her face, and saw the truth in his eyes. "Really?" she asked before she could stop herself.

He made his feet stay where they were at. It was safer all around. He didn't know what would happen if he touched her again. "I haven't slept well for the past few nights, either," he admitted wryly. "I can't imagine why tonight would be any different."

He had trouble sleeping. Because of her. Good Lord, she wondered to herself, could the revelations of the past few minutes be anymore damaging to her equilibrium? "I'm sorry about that, Jim," she whispered softly.

"Don't be, Trix. It's not your fault." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, all the better to keep from reaching her again, and brought an end to their midnight conversation. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah. In the morning." She sent one last, confused look toward him, her head tilted endearingly to the side, and the stalker the furthest thing from her mind. "Good night, Jim." She stepped through the doorway.

He moved then and closed the door, slowly letting out a small gasp of breath at the same time. Leaning against the back of the door, he glanced up at the ceiling, unsure whether he should be proud of upholding his honor or damned for not taking advantage of the situation. Either way, he wasn't getting any sleep and it had absolutely nothing to do with the current dangerous situation she found herself in.

She stood on the other side of the door, her eyes staring at it, and her mind the most befuddled she could ever remember it being. "What happened in there?" she whispered aloud, remembering the thrilling feeling of being in Jim's arms and the sweet pressure of the unexpected kiss on her forehead. She wished she knew the answer. Walking with deliberately slow steps, she entered Honey's room and climbed back into bed, her busy mind searching out the answers to a new and much more delightful puzzle.


	29. Chapter 28

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It hadn't been the most restful night. There had been too many thoughts swirling through her mind. But Trixie actually felt refreshed from the few hours of sleep she managed to get. With the morning sun streaming through the windows, dousing the room in its lovely golden glow, she pushed aside the covers and stretched, eagerly anticipating the start of the day. The alarm clock told her that it was almost seven o'clock. She jumped out of the bed. After years of living under her mother's regime, she quickly remade it. Standing back to admire her handiwork, she decided that it was adequate but admitted that Celia could have done a better job of it. Then she slipped out of her pajamas and started to get dressed for the day, as noiselessly as possible.

"What are you doing?" Honey complained sleepily from the other bed, awakened by the quiet movements. She lifted her head and glared accusingly at Trixie. "You have got to be insane. It's not even seven o'clock in the morning. Even worse, it's not even a school day, Trix!"

Trixie tugged on her jeans and smiled apologetically. "Sorry to wake you up, Honey. I was trying to be quiet. I have to talk to Sergeant Molinson. I want to call him as soon as possible," she whispered lightly. She turned her back to Honey and took off her pajama top. Then she reached down for her bra and her shirt. "There are a few things that he needs to know."

"Okay." The words didn't immediately register through her sleep-filled mind. She laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes, attempting to fall back to sleep. Then she popped back up, confused. Honey tilted her head to the side, wondering if she had heard correctly. "Wait a minute. Did I hear you correctly? Sergeant Molinson?" She tapped her ears. "Did you just say that you need to talk to Sergeant Molinson?"

"Hmm...mmm." Trixie pulled her yellow shirt over her head and ran a brush through her rioting curls. Shrugging her shoulders, she decided she had done the best that she could. Then she sat down on the bed and put on her sneakers. Forgetting that Honey didn't know the latest, she spoke in a rush, "I need to tell him about the new text message, plus a few other conclusions I came to last night when I was talking with Jim."

"You've got to slow down here. My brain's still moving in the slow lane." Honey drew her legs up and tried to shake away the remains of her sleep. As Trixie's best friend and partner, she was used to Trixie's whirlwind explanations but she generally had an idea about the reasoning behind them. She was lost in the dark this time. "You're going much too fast for me. When did you get a text message? What is this about new conclusions? And exactly when did you have time to talk to Jim?"

Already at the bedroom door, Trixie dropped her hand from the door handle and assured her, "Don't worry, Honey. I'll catch you up to speed in a few minutes. But I need to talk to Sergeant Molinson as soon as he gets into the station. He has to get started on something right away." She pushed open the door and called back over her shoulder, "Meet me downstairs after you get dressed. I'll tell you everything then." The last sight she had of Honey was of her throwing back the covers and standing up to stretch, a bewildered expression on her face. Grinning to herself, Trixie had a strong feeling that Honey would be ready and downstairs much sooner than she would normally be on a Saturday. Humming softly, she rushed down the hall, her overnight bag slung over her shoulder, and into the bathroom where she finished her preparations for the day.

Stepping back into the hallway, Trixie was brought up short by the sight of Jim. He was leaning against the wall, hands stuffed in the pockets of his faded blue jeans, and obviously waiting for her. The blasted flush attacked her face as she stared, wide-eyed, seeing him for the first time since their conversation in the early morning. Not knowing what else to say, forgetful of the task ahead of them, she settled for a low and breathless, "Jim."

The dark circles under his eyes told the story. He hadn't slept well, exactly as he had predicted, and she was the reason. "Good morning, Trixie," Jim responded easily and with a slow smile on his handsome face. He watched her carefully, as he had done for years, and correctly guessed the reasoning behind her nervousness. Pushing himself away from the wall, he took the necessary three steps that would bring him to her and stopped, right in front of her, and tripling the effect of the blush on her.

"Hi," she responded, feeling nervous around him for the first time ever. She ran her hands through her curls and tried to dredge up something to say, anything at all. But speech, as well as relevant thoughts, was almost beyond her. Lost in the sea of emerald eyes staring back, all she could do was stare. Unsure how to respond, not after the encounter in his bedroom, she couldn't come up with anything else to say. In the bright light of the day, she wasn't even certain if she had come to the right conclusion about their embrace or if it had all been her own wishful thinking. Hoping he couldn't read her face, she pinned on what she prayed for passed as a normal smile and waited for him to respond.

He could always read her like a book but Jim didn't clue her in on that one, realizing it was a skill that would come in handy with her. Correctly interpreting her nervousness, he made the next move to break the ice. Cupping her elbow with his, he started forward and down the hall, bringing her with him, and spoke with forced easiness, intentionally overlooking the awkwardness of their first meeting. "I spent most of the night watching the clock, waiting for the morning to come around," he admitted to her as they neared the stairs. "I didn't get that much sleep."

It was reminiscent of their walk to the kitchen only a few hours earlier, when it seemed like they were the only two people in the large house. "Honey was curious why I was up so early," Trixie shared after a long moment of silence. She had trouble keeping her eyes off his face and felt the hated blush start to work its way across hers, while visions of the last time she had spent with him danced in her head. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable but it wasn't their normal familiarity, either. She didn't know how to catalogue it or how to respond to it. She only knew it was different.

The shift in their relationship was hard to ignore. Knowing he was responsible for letting her see a glimpse into how he really felt about her, he decided that he wasn't going to let her be nervous around him and quickly introduced a subject that would keep her mind occupied and on other things. "Sergeant Molinson is usually in the station at seven. He should be there by now. Let's go downstairs. We'll make the call in my father's den." He didn't relinquish his touch, even during their descent down the stairs.

"That's a good idea." Trixie focused on what needed to be done instead of the butterflies that were swarming in her stomach. She couldn't ever remember feeling so affected by his mere presence. Grateful to be able to think about something else, she added, her voice growing stronger while she focused on something easier to her senses, "It'll be the perfect place to talk to the sergeant. What do you think he's going to do?" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, curious about what he would say, and glad that they were making it through and finding their usual friendliness.

He noticed the way the tension seemed to flow out of her body, relieved. She wasn't going to let it damage their relationship. She also wasn't running for the hills, which was a very good thing in his mind. "He'll probably give you a hard time at first," Jim guessed astutely, bringing them back to the topic at hand. "We both know how Sergeant Molinson can be, especially when it involves a case that you're working on. But I think you'll be able to persuade him to come to your point of view quicker than normal. He's taken everything seriously, right from the beginning. I doubt that he'll have any trouble starting the next round of investigating." Their combined steps ate up the carpeting swiftly. He looked at her slyly, wanting to make her smile. "He may even thank you for giving him a nod in the right direction."

"That'll be the day." Laughter bubbled up and over, filling the hallway and chasing away the last of her nerves. She happily settled back into the way things have always been between the two of them. "Oh, there's no chance about that, Jim. I certainly won't be holding my breath. If anything, he'll give me his famous 'stay out of it and let the police handle everything' lecture. He'll still manage to look sternly at me, even over the phone. You'll see."

"And you'll look contrite, just like you always do." He couldn't even begin to count the number of times he had seen her with her face down during one of the sergeant's lectures and chewing on her bottom lip. "That comes with the territory. You should be used to that by now." They reached the door to the den. Jim opened it and ushered her inside, just as Honey came flying down the stairs.

"Wait for me!" she called out breathlessly, uncertain if she should be surprised or not by the sight of Trixie and Jim together. Arching an eyebrow, she noticed that Trixie was standing extremely close to Jim, with hardly an inch of space between them, and that he had a hand on her waist. Neither seemed to be aware of the fact that they were in such close proximity to each other. Filing it away to be analyzed later, she sprinted the last few feet to the doorway and quickly slid inside. "Wow! I think I set a new record. I can never remember getting ready this quickly before." She dropped on the large leather sofa and thumped her heart dramatically, feeling its rapid beating. She had put herself together in record time. "This had better be good, Trix. I had planned to sleep in until at least eight this morning."

Trixie was already dialing the station's number. She knew it by heart. She accepted Mart's cell phone back from Jim with a grin, knowing that she would have to give him the newest number. After telling her name to the dispatcher, she was immediately patched through to the Sergeant.

Honey leaned forward and grabbed Jim's arm, tugging him down until he was sitting next to her and forcing him to look at her. "Trixie hasn't told me what's going on yet," she informed him in a hushed voice. "You're going to have to tell me what's going on. I'm practically ready to die out of sheer curiosity here. All she mentioned to me was something about getting a text message last night and having a talk with you."

Jim kept one eye on Trixie, who was speaking urgently into the phone. She was looking down at the cell phone. He realized that she was giving the sergeant the newest number to track down. He answered absently, almost as if he was reciting a homework assignment, "She got the text last night, right before midnight, if I remember correctly. Trixie came out into the hallway. That's where she showed it to me."

It was hard to miss the fact that he didn't seem to be able to take his eyes off of her best friend. Honey wondered what else had happened last night between the two. She couldn't put her finger on it but her intuition told her something momentous had. But then his words sank in, chasing away her suspicions, and she shivered. "Oh, that's awful. Another text? She was feeling so good about having Mart's cell phone. She thought was safe from the hang-ups and texts, at least." Then she studied her brother, a little too closely for his comfort. Her finger tapped against the glossy top of the coffee table. "You're going to have clear something else up for me. How did you manage to meet her in the hallway, in the middle of the night? I was fast asleep. I didn't hear anything."

Jim had the grace to flush and explained hurriedly, his attention finally focused only on his sister, "She bumped into the table outside of your room. You know, the one with the vase that Celia always puts fresh flowers in?"

Leave it to Trixie to cause a commotion in the middle of the night. Honey reluctantly let it go, although she continued to look knowingly at her brother. He wasn't fooling her, not for a minute, but she would get to that at a later time. She had more important discoveries to make. "Well, enough of that, for now. Let's focus on the text. Like I said before, Trixie didn't think the stalker knew her new cell phone number. She was feeling safe, at least from that threat."

"He couldn't have known it," Jim murmured back, trying to listen in on Trixie's conversation but he couldn't hear a word she was saying. She was talking too low. "Last night she figured out that the only way he could have discovered the switch was by eavesdropping in on the three of you at lunch yesterday. She gave you the number when you realized it wasn't programmed into your cell phone."

Honey's mouth dropped open. It took her a full minute before she could speak. "But…but…but that would mean that the stalker would have had to have been in our school! Not only in our school, but also in the cafeteria!" That knowledge somehow made it worse. Dropping back against the sofa, she picked up a throw pillow and started to play with its fringes. Realization dawned, slowly but completely. "She thinks that the stalker is at our school."

"Yes," he replied shortly. He kept his words hushed and quiet, listening to the sounds of Trixie's voice a few feet away. "Trixie thinks that he must work at the school and possibly even at the Country Club. She's convinced that there's a connection between the two places. She also believes that he has been listening in on your conversations for a while now and that's how he was able to show up at different places, like during our ride last Saturday where he got her hat." Had he only been home for a week? It was hard to believe. So much had happened. Then Jim motioned towards the object of their conversation. "That's what she's telling Sergeant Molinson now. She wants him to start searching through the employee records at both places."

"That's interesting." Honey contemplated the information, refusing to feel the small stirrings of jealousy that her best friend and partner had discussed the information with someone else besides her. It couldn't matter, she reasoned swiftly. Not when so much was at stake. And it wasn't like Trixie had intentionally blocked her out but it still hurt, despite her best intentions. "Leave it to Trixie to make that connection."

He gave up trying to hear Trixie's end of the conversation. It wasn't working anyway. Jim sat back against the sofa. "He knew Mart's cell phone number, as well as the fact that you two were having a sleepover. There's only one way he could have found that out, too."

She knew immediately. "Yesterday, at lunch." Honey recalled their lunch and frowned, thinking back to it. Nothing stood out to her, other than the fact that she had programmed in Mart's cell phone number, and Di hadn't been able to come. "We are never that quiet when we talk," she shared tentatively. "It would be easy for someone to overhear us. It's entirely possible that it happened that way."

"Trixie thinks so, too. That's why she's calling him. She really believes that there is a strong correlation between the school and the Country Club." He was proud of the way she had puzzled things out and hoped that the sergeant agreed with her. With his help and assistance, it could potentially bring an end to the situation sooner than anyone expected it to end. "She wants the sergeant to start the ball rolling as soon as possible."

"That's why we're up so early." Honey put her hands on her knees and leaned forward. "He'll find something. Trixie's hunches are rarely ever wrong. Even when they are wrong, they are not completely wrong, if you know what I mean. There's generally a strain of truth to them." Honey found her friend, who was now staring at the floor with slumped shoulders and biting her bottom lip. She had to muffle a giggle. It was a sight she was familiar with. "Look, Jim. She's getting her mandatory lecture now."

They exchanged grins. "Nothing unusual in that," Jim noted with a low chuckle.

Trixie felt the two of them looking at her. She narrowed her eyes at them and then hung up the phone. "He's going to get right on it," she explained without hesitation. "He has to get the approval from the superintendent and the director at the Country Club first and then he'll start going through the records. He'll call and tell my parents what he finds out."

"Good." Honey popped up from her seat and threaded her arm through Trixie's. Jim saw that they needed a few minutes alone and quietly disappeared through the door. Honey caught his departure and threw a grateful smile at his back. Then she addressed Trixie. "Jim explained everything to me while you were talking to the sergeant. Let's go get some breakfast. I'm starved." As they headed towards the dining room, Honey admonished softly, "You know, you could have woken me up last night, Trix. I wouldn't have cared."

"Sorry about that," Trixie answered uncomfortably, realizing how it looked to Honey. She sighed deeply. "I didn't mean to leave you out, Honey. After I got the text, I needed to get out of your room and into someplace different. I didn't seek Jim out on purpose. I, well, I…'"

"Don't worry. He told me you bumped into the table and that brought him into the hallway." Honey squeezed Trixie's hand. "I'm not mad at you or upset or anything, Trix. Believe me, I know how fast your mind works when you get ahold of an idea. Just remember to keep me in the loop, all right? I don't want to be forgotten." Honey couldn't keep the hurt out of her voice as she led the way into the dining room where breakfast was waiting for them on the table.

"I promise I'll keep you informed of anything that happens," Trixie assured her truthfully, hating the fact that she had upset her friend, no matter how unintentional it had been. She dropped her overnight bag against the wall and followed Honey to the table, which held an assortment of different breakfast foods. "If you're not with me, I'll get in touch with you the second I suspect anything, no matter how tiny or insignificant it may be."

"Good." Honey took her seat at the table, feeling better. She gave Trixie a brilliant smile to let her know that all was forgotten and then blew it with her next words. "And I'm going to sound like Sergeant Molinson here but don't go off on your own, Trixie. Got it?"

Trixie rolled her eyes. Honey was right. She sounded suspiciously like the phone call that had just ended. "I'll send notes, I'll call, I'll text, I'll even send up smoke signals if anything happens, no matter what it is." She crossed her heart in the school-yard promise. "You'll be the first I get in touch with."

"See that you do." Then Honey giggled, her good mood restored, and joked playfully, "I was just imagining you trying to send me a smoke signal to get my attention. The funny thing is I wouldn't be at all surprised if you could actually do it!"

"I'm not all that fond of playing with fire," Trixie replied with a shudder, remembering some of her close escapes with fire. One of them had occurred here, at the Manor House stables. It wasn't something she hoped to ever have to go through again. "On second thought I think I'll leave the smoke signals to the professionals."

There were still laughing when Jim entered the dining room. He took a minute to appreciate the good moods of the girls before he stepped back and let the newest arrival in. "Look who I found on our front step," he said. He pointed at Dan. "It's our lucky day. Somehow we've managed to pick up another Bob-White along the way."

"'Morning, girls," he greeted them cheerfully. Neither man mentioned that he was there to help Regan exercise the horses, not wanting to remind Trixie that she was not able to go riding with them. His dark eyes rested for a moment on her, trying to ascertain how she was handling the latest intrusion into her private life. During their walk to the dining room, Jim had quietly shared the latest information with him. She looked fine, he decided with relief. She wasn't letting it get her down.

"Come on in." Honey pointed to an empty spot at the large dining room table. "You haven't missed anything yet, Dan. Our cook has made a large breakfast. She must have known we would have a lot of guests today. We're just getting started." She disguised a chuckle with a small cough when her brother unobtrusively sat down next to Trixie. Honey met Dan's amused look with one of her own.

Dan took a seat across from the girls and started filling up his plate, lifting his eyebrows at Jim's choice of seating. He imagined that Jim was counting down the minutes to her graduation. "I'm surprised to see all of you up and about on a Saturday morning," he said in-between bites of the delicious omelets the cook had made for their breakfast.

Trixie glanced at Jim. He gave her a nod, letting her know that he had already told Dan the newest. She smiled in appreciation, grateful that she didn't have to go through it again. She imagined she had only one more telling. "I have to get home soon. I'm sure Mart is about ready to kill me. Bobby had Larry and Terry over last night for a sleepover."

Dan gave a sharp bark of laughter. Mart had told him stories of what could happen when the three of them got together. He doubted if they were exaggerated. "Oh, you're definitely on his list, then," he assured her jokingly, imagining that Mart would be ready to pull his hair out, if he didn't keep it cut so short. "Mart's not going to let you live this one down."

"No, he's not. I imagine he'll blow out the door the second I go through it. Not that I can really complain." She rolled her shoulder. "After all, I had a wonderful evening here. I don't think that Mart and Brian or Moms and Dad can say the same thing." She closed her eyes to block out the sight of all the chores that were cheerfully awaiting her.

Jim liked the way that she had said 'a wonderful evening,' correctly interpreting that he was a large part of the reason why it had been so wonderful. He didn't say anything, continued to eat, but felt content with the way she saw her stay here, even with the advent of the newest text message. His fingers itched to touch her. Giving in to the impulse, he reached under the table and closed his fingers over hers.

Trixie jolted at the contact, startled, but then she slowly wound her fingers together with his. Again, they had held hands numerous times before but it was different. Everything seemed to be different between them. The contact had always been comfortable, not as exhilarating as it was now. She didn't look at him, not wanting to draw any attention from their friends, but she didn't let go, either.

Honey stared questioningly at her brother and Trixie, wondering why they were suddenly so quiet. "Did Mart update you on the shenanigans last night?" Honey asked Dan during a lull in the conversation. "I'll bet that he needed an outlet. Trixie said he that he wasn't looking forward to the evening at all."

Dan had a pretty good idea what had made the other two so quiet. He couldn't stop the spread of the perceptive grin across his face and had to bite back a chuckle. "No. He wouldn't have been able to get in touch with me. The regular phone line to the cabin is out. An old tree limb fell on it yesterday. The phone company is supposed to come and fix it today. And you all know how cell phone service is around the cabin," Dan added sardonically. "It's practically non-existent. It's just about the only place in Sleepyside that doesn't get any service. Sometimes you can get a single bar of service when you're outside but that's only when the weather is just right."

"I know it's frustrated Mart a time or two when he's needed to get in touch with you, especially since Mr. Maypenny doesn't like answering the phone anyway," Trixie put in, joining in the conversation, her hand still held snugly within Jim's bigger one. "I hope your regular phone line gets fixed today."

"It hasn't bothered me too much. I've never minded the peace and quiet of the cabin." It was true and suited Dan much better than the hustle and bustle of the city. Somewhere along the way he had become a country boy.

"Isn't Mr. Maypenny's nephew getting married soon?" Honey wondered aloud, seeming to remember him talking about it the last time she had visited him while she had been exercising Lady. "He wasn't happy about having to go to the wedding but he didn't want to hurt his nephew's feelings. He would much rather have stayed home."

"You're right. He's complained about it since I've been home." Dan nodded. "The wedding's today, actually. Mr. Maypenny hated doing it but he actually stayed over in a motel last night since he was invited to the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner. He won't be back until later tonight."

Jim heard the front door open, then the sound of two very familiar-sounding voices floating their way. He dropped Trixie's hand and reached across the table to nudge his sister. "I think you've got your wish, Honey."

Honey turned in her seat, listened to the newest arrivals, and let out a squeal of pure delight. "Mother! Daddy!" she cried out happily. She jumped off of her chair and was out the door, her breakfast forgotten, and eager to see their parents. It had been too long.

"They're home earlier than we expected. The weather must have cleared up sooner than the weather forecasters had predicted," Jim explained to Dan and Trixie. He put down his fork, finished with his breakfast, and looked forward to seeing their parents, too. "She's been waiting for them to come home for the longest time."

"It's perfect! She's missed them dreadfully. " Trixie neatly stacked her napkin and silverware on her plate, the only cleaning up she needed to do as a guest at the Wheelers, and stood up, ready to face whatever was waiting for her at home. "I think it's time to see if Crabapple Farm is still standing after a night with the three amigos."

"I'll take you home, Trix," Dan volunteered after sharing a brief look with Jim. He knew that Jim would have offered to take her home himself but that he needed to spend at least spend a few minutes with his adopted parents. He pushed himself back from the table and waited for Trixie. She walked over to the doorway and picked up her overnight bag.

"Thanks, Dan." She prayed that Sergeant Molinson found the link soon. She hated having to rely on others for transportation. Then she glanced up at Jim, suddenly feeling uneasy again. Dan made it a little easier by leaving the room, sniggering the entire way. Trixie gawked after his retreating back, unable to see what he found so amusing. "I'll see you later, Jim."

"Call if you hear anything," he told her quietly, his emerald eyes probing her sapphire ones. "I'm here for you. We all are."

"Of course you are." She allowed herself one last look at him. She wished she knew what she was looking at but she couldn't define it. All she knew was the way he looked back at her filled her with feelings she couldn't begin to decipher. Her voice came out as soft as whisper. "Thank you. For everything."

He wanted to do more but couldn't, not with his parents in the next room, and certainly not until after her graduation. Instead, he settled for an old favorite. He reached out and tugged a soft curl, watching the way it bounced back into place. "No problem, Trix," he responded huskily. "It's my pleasure."

All she could was nod. The sounds of the others were getting closer, letting them know that they didn't have much more time alone. Trying to think of something else to say, finally coming up with something she believed to be trite and inadequate, she mumbled, "Have a good day, Jim." She smiled, a smile that deepened the blue of her eyes, and then she slipped out the door, on her way to greet the others and then go home.

He stayed in the dining room for another moment, along, thumbs hooked on the loops of his jeans, and stared at the ceiling, realizing with blinding certainty that the next few weeks were going to just about kill him. "Time had better find a way of moving faster," he muttered fiercely, unsure if he would be able to make it through to the promised deadline, and strode swiftly out of the room.


	30. Chapter 29

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"I took the Bob-White station wagon for a reason," Dan announced as he carefully made the turn into her driveway and drove the short distance to her house. He parked next to her father's car. It was odd to have only one other vehicle in the driveway. Normally there was a fleet of other cars in attendance. He turned to Trixie and cut the engine. "I figure I'll leave it here. Mart's been complaining a bit about not having a car at his disposal. He may want to use it," he explained, his tone dry as dust.

Trixie answered with a soft laugh, "That would be wonderful, Dan. I hate agreeing with Mart but, in this case, I must. It seems like we Beldens are practically carless right now. As you know from Mart's grumblings, his car is at the police station and hasn't been returned yet. Of course, it wouldn't do much good even if it was returned now, anyway. It's still missing four essentials to any car. Then there's Brian's jalopy. He's not too confident in it. He's only content with driving it out on Glen Road." She pointed to the sedan and wondered where her mother's van was. "That just leaves our parents' cars. You can imagine how much fun it is trying to divide up cars between the six of us," she finished with a small smirk. "It doesn't go over very well."

"I can only imagine," Dan answered with a deep chuckle. He could picture it perfectly. He was sure the discussions got heated, with even the youngest Belden chiming in. Still grinning, he handed the keys over to her and opened the door. "Here you go, Trix. Tell Mart and Brian I'll see them later." Whistling, he started off towards the path to the Manor House.

"Wait, Dan. Aren't you coming in?" Trixie questioned, already certain of his answer. She didn't want to enter the house herself.

Dan stopped in his tracks and threw her an exaggerated look of horror over his shoulder. "Not on your life! With Bobby, Larry and Terry possibly inside? I find it hard to believe that your house is still in one piece." He gave a two-fingered salute and started up the path to the Manor House, whistling the entire way.

Her giggles subsided abruptly as she approached the back door of the house. Not sure what to expect, astonished that she couldn't hear any noise inside whatsoever, Trixie cautiously opened the door, being careful to not let it squeak, and poked her head inside. "Hello?" she called out cautiously. "Is anyone home?"

Mart looked up, hands deep in the sink filled to the brim with suds and dishes, and gave her a satisfied smirk. "You are just in time," he told her after giving a pleased nod. Taking his hands out of the water, he wiped them on a dish towel and turned to her with a bow, motioning for her to take over the chore. "Please, oh absent one, please, feel free to step in and finish the dishes for me. It would be much appreciated by your poor, beleaguered brother."

Trixie couldn't offer the biting retort that sprung effortlessly to her lips, not when she had had the luxury of deserting the house for the entire night. Besides, she hadn't expected anything less. Stepping up to the sink, she took over where Mart had left off without making a fuss. "Where is everyone?" she questioned while she competently began scrubbing the remaining dishes clean. "It's awfully quiet in here. I wasn't expecting that."

"You were probably expecting the three-ring circus we had at breakfast." Mart grinned at her, watching her work. He pulled down a coffee mug and filled it up with his third cup of the day, the necessary fuel to help him make it through the day. "Brian has borrowed the van and is taking the young hoodlums home. Master Robert Belden went along for the ride; hence the reason why he isn't present. Moms and Dad are upstairs. They say they are putting away the laundry but I think they're really taking a nap," he added in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Was it that bad?" Trixie inquired carefully. If her parents needed a nap…she couldn't finish the thought.

A few years ago he would have droned on and on about how horrible it had been just to make her feel bad about not being there but the two of them had matured. A bit. Realizing that she was in the middle of a rather scary situation, Mart chose to go easy on her. He shook his head and told her the truth, without preamble or brotherly regret. "The three weren't horrible at all. They were loud but they stayed out of our hair. They spent most of the night eating junk food and watching silly movies in the den. I think _The Naked Gun_ is their newest, most favorite movie of all time. If I heard correctly, they watched it four times in a row last night and still wanted to rewatch it this morning."

"That is a classic. It's hard to find fault with Leslie Nielsen." Trixie giggled as she remembered different parts of it. Water splashed up and over the sink after she plunged her hands back in to find the silverware. "Were you able to sleep?"

"A little." Not much at all. The boys had enjoyed themselves immensely. Not one elder member of the Belden family had had the heart to intrude on their fun. He sat back and took a revitalizing sip of his coffee. "How are things up at the Manor House? Anything new?"

"The Wheelers came home a few minutes ago." Finished with the dishes, Trixie reached down and let the water drain. Then she grabbed a dish towel and started the extra task of carefully drying each of the dishes and putting them away in their correct spot. "Dan stopped by for breakfast, too. He drove me home in the Bob-White station wagon. It's here, in case any of us should need it, since we are down two cars now." She pointed to the keys that she had left on the counter.

"We could certainly use an extra set of wheels." Mart hated not having his car but he wisely decided to not say anything about it. Complaining didn't do any good.

"That's what Dan thought, too. He knows it's been hard for you to not have your car." She felt sympathy well up within her. Mart had actually been a good sport about the tire slashing. He hadn't complained to her about it all.

He didn't want to talk about his car. It hurt a bit too much. Eyeing her carefully, he pressed for more information about her sleepover. "So, you've told me a bit about your morning. What about your night? Was it restful?" She wouldn't look at him, kept her gaze solely on the dishes, which clued him in first that something wasn't right. "Trixie? Tell me about your night."

"In a minute." Spurred on by his questions, Trixie took a break from the drying and headed over to her overnight bag. She pulled out Mart's cell and handed it over to him without even a hint of a smile. "You can have this back, at least, although you are under strict orders to inform Sergeant Molinson if you have any hang-ups or receive any scary texts on it. He wanted me to impress that upon you. Call him right away, with the cell phone number so that he could track it."

"Are you joking?" Mart's good cheer faded into dust. Blue eyes narrowed dangerously. "What the hell are you talking about, Trix?" he demanded forcefully, not liking what she had told him. He searched her face but couldn't find a clue as to the reasoning behind her statement. His imagination was good. He didn't like what he came up with.

She hated worrying him. The words came out on a rush, foolishly hoping that if she told him quickly it wouldn't worry him as much. "I got another text message last night from my favorite admirer. Jim gave me his cell to use. We hope that the stalker won't be able to figure that one out and won't be able to contact me. You are welcome to have your phone back."

Mart gave her a hard stare but took back his phone. He frowned at it. "That is unbelievable."

"Tell me about." She went back to the task of drying the dishes. Mundane, yes, but at least it didn't try to terrify her. Waiting a minute, she turned back to Mart and announced, "There's a little more to the story other than the text message. I've already had to go through it twice. I really don't want to go through it again. I'll be glad to share it with you when everyone's back."

Mart dropped the cookie he was about to eat, no longer hungry, and wiped the crumbs off of his fingers. "Damn it, Trixie," he cursed, slowly, deliberately and fiercely. "We aren't going to like this, are we?"

She gave a non-committal shrug of her shoulder. "I think I may have found a possible association between…well, get everyone here. Then I'll tell you what I think. Sergeant Molinson is looking into the possibility right now."

He waited a bit, thinking that maybe she would continue. When she didn't, he bit back a small howl of disappointment. "You're really not going to tell me until Brian is back and Moms and Dad are downstairs, are you?" Mart groaned when she nodded affirmatively. He stood up from his seat, taking his coffee with him, and pushed his chair in with a little more force than necessary. "Well, I'll go round up the parents. I wouldn't be surprised if Brian's back sooner rather than later."

"Why didn't you drop off the twins?" Glad to have something else to focus on, Trixie thought it was odd that Mart hadn't leapt at the chance to see Di, even if it meant driving the terrible twins home.

Mart knew where her thoughts were going. "Di is shopping with her mother and her sisters," he explained shortly, not wanting to be sidetracked from his mission. "There wasn't a reason for me to lobby for the right to drive them home. When Brian offered, I didn't try object. If anything, I wanted to weep in gratitude." Then he strode out of the room, calling out loudly for their parents, and anxious to get everyone gathered to hear the latest.

Smiling at the way he was yelling for their parents, Trixie finished drying the breakfast dishes in no time at all. Then she wiped down the table and the counter, making sure everything was picture perfect for her mother when she came back in. Carefully placing the plate of oatmeal cookies in the center of the table, exactly where her mother would want it to sit, Trixie leaned against the clean kitchen counter and waited for her family to file in, the dish towel in her hands. She didn't have to wait too long. Mart swiftly ushered her parents in, who looked a bit perturbed at his odd behavior, as well as a curious Brian.

"Bobby's going upstairs for an extended period of slumber," Mart explained to her while their parents took their seats at the large kitchen table, their eyes wary, and attempting to bring a bit of levity to the family. "He is of the conviction that he should be energized for his double-header later on in the afternoon."

"In other words, he fell asleep on the car ride back from the Lynch's and was told to go to his room and rest for a while longer," Brian broke in with a deep chuckle, unaware of the reasoning behind the conclave in the kitchen. "It was surprising to see one Robert Belden agree and head up the stairs without a protest. I predict that he will be sleeping until lunchtime."

While his parents smiled over Brian's prediction, Mart took a minute to whisper quickly to his older brother, "I got off the phone with Jim a few minutes ago. I canceled our ride this morning."

Brian frowned, suddenly realizing how serious Mart looked. "Why would you do that?" He immediately sought out Trixie and caught the way she was nervously twisting a dish towel. Around and around, wounding it tighter and tighter. Swearing to himself, he had a pretty strong idea why the ride with Jim and Dan had been cancelled.

"You'll find out in a minute." Mart muttered back, although it wasn't necessary. Brian knew.

Peter clapped Mart on the shoulder. "Now, you informed us in that extremely polite way of yours that we had to come into the kitchen because there was something important we needed to know. What's the news you wanted to tell us?"

"Not me." Mart held up his hands in supplication when three pairs of eyes swiveled towards him and pointed to their sister, who was doing her best to not look anyone in the eye and twisting the poor dish towel to within an inch of its life. "She is the one with something to share."

Helen had to bite back a moan. She never looked forward to hearing unexpected news from Trixie. She couldn't remember it ever being good. "Oh, well, let's get started, then, Trixie." She started to wipe imaginary crumbs off the top of the table, needing something to do with her hands, exactly like her daughter.

Trixie stopped twisting the towel. She carefully folded it and placed it on the counter, using the few precious seconds to gather her thoughts about her. Then she took a deep fortifying breath and found the courage to look each of her family members in the eye. Two blue, two dark, and all with the same apprehension in them. Then she carefully and methodically went through the latest set of information, stopping periodically to clarify any points or answer any questions. All the color drained out of Helen's face during the retelling, especially when Trixie mentioned that she believed there was a connection between the school and the stalker and that Sergeant Molinson was looking into it.

"This is ludicrous, absolutely ludicrous," Helen exploded uncharacteristically, her eyebrows drawn together, and her mouth set into a firm, straight line. She so closely resembled Trixie when she was upset that it was uncanny. She threw up her hands, both figuratively and literally, and wondered what else would happen to her daughter."Trixie! School isn't even a safe place for you anymore? It's not right." She needed to cry but held it back, not wanting to give into her own needs in front of her children.

Peter ran a soothing hand along her back, hoping to calm his wife down. All three of their children were giving her concerned glances. He knew that Helen herself was close to the breaking point and directed their attention to himself before she gave in, allowing her a few much-needed seconds to compose herself. "You have already talked to Sergeant Molinson, Trixie?"

"Yes. This morning, right after I woke up. Jim and Honey were with me." Trixie nodded. Her mother's reaction made her keep her second belief that there could be a connection with the stalker and the Country Club to herself. She didn't want to upset her mother even more, especially without any proof other than her own suspicions. "He's already working on getting permission to search through the employee records at the school. I believe he has to get in touch with the superintendent first. He'll call you as soon as he finds anything out."

Brian put his chin in his hand and frowned, deep in thought, and allowing the newest to settle within him. It was at times like this when he wished that he had Trixie's ability to see the almost unseeable. Concentrating on the tangible, he questioned, "You have Jim's cell phone now, too?"

She patted her back pocket, where her newest phone rested. "He gave it to me after I got the text message. I told him I was enjoying my game of musical cell phones. He's now the one without a cell." She chose her words carefully, doing her best not to give away the fact that they had spent a good portion of the very early morning together.

"It seems that we are at a standstill, until we hear from Sergeant Molinson." Ever the sensible Belden, Brian spoke the words smoothly and calmly, his dark eyes the most serious she could ever remember seeing them. "He will let us know what he finds out. We have no choice but to go on like normal."

Helen brought her eyes to Peter frantically. He gave a small shake of his head, letting her know that they would discuss the issue of school later, without having the benefits of three pairs of ears listening in. She gave in reluctantly, closing her eyes to block out the thoughts and fears running through her mind. "I understand that the sergeant is supposed to call us with information but I think I'm going to give him a call right now. He will be able to let me know the progress of his search, if nothing else." He pulled back Helen's chair and helped her stand. Sliding his arm over her shoulder, he guided her out of the room, talking quietly to her the entire way.

Trixie watched her parents walk away and felt even worse. She slumped down in her chair. "Is this ever going to end?" she wondered aloud, feeling defeated, and despising being the cause of such overwhelming anxiety for her friends and family.

Without hesitating, Mart reached across the table and covered her freckled hand with his, offering her a quick and much-needed pep-talk. "Trixie, you've got a house filled with Beldens, a bevy of Bob-Whites surrounding you, as well as the Sleepyside Police Department apparently at your beck and call. You're going to be fine. You are going to be wonderful. If anything, I think we need to worry about the well-being of the stalker, whoever he may be. He's going to be facing some pretty pissed-off people soon."

Brian's grin was quick and cunning. There was nothing boring or sensible about his imagination. He had many devious and painful thoughts on what he would like to do to the stalker, should he run into him first. "I second that, Mart."

"Thanks, guys. I needed that." She laughed at their foolishness, appreciating the combined effort to cheer her up. "What do you two have planned for the day?" she asked in an abrupt change of conversation, wanting to move on from the subject at hand, and focus on something else entirely.

He realized what she was trying to do and followed along easily. "I need to head into town to pick up a few parts for the jalopy," Brian responded and chuckled at his poor car. "As you know, it hasn't been running well. I thought I had fixed it the other day but I was wrong."

"The only thing that will fix your jalopy is the junkyard," Mart muttered under his breath, earning him a sharp glare from Brian. Clearing his throat, he offered quickly, "If you want, I'll go with you, Brian."

Brian ignored the insult to his car and gratefully accepted the offer. "Do you need anything while we're out?" he asked Trixie, picking up the keys to the station wagon.

Just the identity of her stalker, she thought wryly but doubted they could deliver that knowledge to her. And a cozy jail cell for him. "No, thanks," she answered instead. "Go on, you two. Have fun, doing whatever it is you guys do in autoparts stores. I, unfortunately, have some chores to do." Trixie's smile fell off her face after they left. Sighing, she left the kitchen to seek out her parents and find out if she had any more chores. Her mother gave her a shorter list than normal, her mind obviously not on the cleanliness of the household. For once, Trixie didn't mind doing them. It helped keep her mind occupied and off of other things. When she did find time for a break, she found her thoughts alternating between the stalker and Jim. It wasn't hard to decide that thinking about Jim was the better route to go. She ended up daydreaming a lot about him, reliving their encounter in his bedroom over and over again. It left her feeling all soft and sweet inside, exactly what she needed.

One of her chores was to help with lunch. It was made, served and almost over, with all the Beldens in attendance. The kitchen had been subdued for a Belden meal, with only Bobby acting like his regular self. The older siblings had returned from their shopping trip, more thoughtful than they had been before they had left, and obviously bothered by the lack of information from Sergeant Molinson, who hadn't been able to offer anything other than the fact that they hadn't been given permission yet to search through the employees' records at the school because they couldn't get in touch with the superintendent. It was disheartening, to all of the Beldens, who had all foolishly hoped that the sergeant would have already found the answer.

The phone rang right when lunch ended. Mart reached for it, smirking as he watched Trixie clear the dishes away from the table. "Insane asylum," he said into the phone, earning a small slap and a gasp of disgust from his mother, who was clearly not amused with her son's mischievous way of answering the phone. "It's okay, Moms. It's just Dan," he told his mother, hoping to pacify her. Helen mumbled something under her breath and got up to help Trixie clean up the table.

Trixie put the remains of the salad into a plastic container, listening in on the one-sided conversation between Mart and Dan. Getting the idea that something was wrong, she waited until Mart had hung up the phone before attacking him with a set of questions. "What was that about? Is everything okay? I know something happened to Dan. I could tell from your end of the conversation. You've got to tell us what it is."

"I would, I would, if you would give me a minute here." Mart shook a finger at her, snickering at her impatience. At least some things never changed. "Patience, my dear sister. It's a virtue you do not have in the least but one that you should contemplate knowing. Impatience really doesn't become you."

"Come on, Mart." Brian put down his glass of water with a snap. "Leave Trix alone. She's got enough to deal with now. What is the problem with Dan?"

"It sounded serious," Helen interjected as she cleared scraps off of the plates.

"It is." Mart gave a small sigh and looked at his brother, all playfulness aside. "Our assistance has been requested, older brother. When Dan got back to the cabin after riding with Jim this morning he was met with a rather unpleasant surprise." He stood up, pushed in his chair and strode over to the back door. "We're going to have meet Dan at the cabin. He had to walk into the preserve until he could find a bar of service for his cell phone."

Trixie's eyes widened. She clutched the lid in her hands, forgetting to put it on top of the container filled with salad. "What was the surprise?" Her voice was wobbly while she prayed that it had nothing to do with her stalker.

Luck was with her this time. It finally seemed as if something didn't center around her. Mart took in the concerned faces of the people in front of him and spoke swiftly, "At least one of the water pipes burst in the cabin. He got a good look at it and says it looks like the pipe rotted through. He turned off the water but he's still got quite a flood in the kitchen, plus a wet hole in the wall. Needless to say, he needs a bit of help."

"We'll go right away." Brian stood up, immediately concerned about his friend and the state of his home. He pulled out the keys to the station wagon from his pocket and motioned to his brother. "Let's head out. We'll go to the cabin, assess the damage, and then find out what needs to be done."

Trixie watched the two of them leave with a wistful expression on her face. Wishing she could go help out was useless. She had always used up her quota of getting out of chores for the weekend. Sighing, she brought the lunch dishes over to the sink and wondered why they couldn't have used paper plates instead of real ones. It would have made her job a lot easier. She started doing her second load of dishes for the day and glanced at the clock. She only had an hour and a half left until she had to report to work.

The time went by slowly without her brothers around. Bobby spent most of the time in his room, playing his Nintendo DS. With only her chores to occupy her, Trixie completed them in record time. When she finished, she ran up the stairs to her room and threw on her work clothes. She bopped down the stairs, with her Sleepyside Country Club jacket in her hands, and came to an abrupt stop at the bottom of the stairs, suddenly tense and nervous. "What's wrong?" she asked carefully.

Her parents were staring at her, with gloomy expressions on their faces. "Trixie," her mother began hesitatingly, wringing her hands together, and dreading to have to share their thoughts with her. "Your father and I have realized something terribly important. It's about your shift today."

Peter took over. He put an arm around Helen's shoulder. He came right out and said it, mentally prepared for Trixie's reaction, which didn't promise to be a pretty one, "We're not sure if it's the best idea to let you go into work today."

"Oh, no, no, no," she breathed out, shaking her head negatively, and waving her hands in the air. "That can't be. Why not?" She frowned at her parents, urging them to try and explain why they didn't want her to go into work. Her eyes narrowed, telling them plainly that she wasn't going to agree with them.

Peter stepped forward. He didn't want to disappoint her but he wasn't sure what else could be done. "We have to leave in a few minutes to take Bobby to his game. He's upstairs getting dressed now. It starts at two-thirty. He has a double-header today, as you know. Neither Mart nor Brian are here to drive you to the Country Club. They're still helping Dan. We tried calling their cell phones but neither is answering. Cell phone service is awful at the cabin. We also tried to call Jim but he must be there, too. There wasn't any answer on his phone, either."

Trixie knew that. She chewed on her bottom lip and despised the need to have someone drive her around. Possible solutions rolled through her mind. "You could drop me off on the way to Bobby's game. I could always get to work early. No one would mind. It's not a big deal at all. I could hang out in the break room until three. Then I could still go to work," she implored them, practically begging them to let her go in. She turned to her mom while another idea came to her. "Or I could drive myself. Can I please borrow your van, Moms? You and Dad could follow me to the Country Club. Then you would know I got there safely." Surprisingly close to tears, she took a deep breath to try and settle her emotions. She didn't want to have to call off, especially on her second shift of work. It wouldn't make a very good impression on her supervisor, plus it would put the Country Club down an employee, without much notice. "It's not that far to the Country Club. It's less than two miles away. Please? What could happen?"

With Trixie, anything. That had been proven time and time again. "I think it'll be all right if you drive my car," Helen decided slowly after sharing a pointed look with Peter. They didn't want to disappoint her and they certainly didn't want to keep her from working. "I don't see much of an option, unfortunately, other than having you call in and cancel your shift." They had raised their children to be responsible. Calling in at the last possible minute wasn't acceptable, unless there was absolutely no other option. She gave a sage nod of her head and prayed that she was making the right decision. "Yes, you can take my van. We'll follow behind you to the Country Club. Then, when it's time to come home, I'll make sure that someone is there to follow you home. You won't be alone, Trixie."

Trixie threw her arms around her mother, relieved, excited and extremely grateful. "Thank you, Moms! You have no idea what this means to me. I didn't want to have to call in and cancel my shift. I'll be extra careful, I promise I will. Nothing will happen."

She held on to her daughter, aiming a worried look at her husband. "You have Jim's cell phone, right?" Helen wanted to make sure that she could contact them, if it became necessary. "You'll call us if anything happens?"

Trixie pulled it out of the pocket of her jacket and held it aloft. "I have it right here. It's fully charged and everything. If there's the slightest problem I'll get in touch with you, the boys, and the police," she spoke quickly, hoping to assure her parents that there wasn't anything to worry about and that she would be safe and sound. "Don't forget. Di is working with me, too. I won't be alone. Then there's the fact that the Country Club is always crawling with people. It's a Saturday so it's going to be busier than normal. Nothing's going to happen there. I can guarantee it."

He didn't want his only daughter out of his sights but there wasn't any way he could keep Trixie locked up. He hoped he could take her guarantee to the bank. "I don't see the harm in letting you keep your shift, either." He was the immediate recipient of a very strong hug. He returned it, hoping that they weren't making a colossal mistake. Time would tell. "We'll be at Bobby's game, should you need us. It's going to be a long one. I don't expect that we'll be home until about seven o'clock, well before your shift ends. Like Helen said, I'll either meet you at the Country Club or I'll have Mart or Brian wait for you there." He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face up so that he could look directly into her eyes. "You are not to leave the Country Club on your own. Promise me, Trixie."

"I promise, Daddy." She meant it, too. Excited by the prospect of actually being able to drive herself, and all by herself, Trixie practically skipped out of the house and to her mother's van, the keys jingling merrily in her hand. She watched as Bobby sprinted to her father's car, dressed in his red and white striped uniform, and threw the bat bag that was nearly as big as him into the backseat before climbing in himself. "Good luck, Bobby!" she yelled to him.

Bobby yelled back, his voice muffled from the inside of the car, "Thanks, Trix! Wish you could come and watch it. I'll let you know what happens when you get home."

"See that you do!" She got inside the van and started it up, a beaming smile on her face. It was amazing to be driving again and without someone in the next seat over. Turning up the radio, she carefully backed up and went down the driveway, her father's sedan right behind her. She led the way to the Country Club, her parents and Bobby following closely. When she made it to the turn-off, she beeped her horn and entered the parking lot. It was going to be a great shift. She could just feel it.


	31. Chapter 30

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Thirty

It was forty-five minutes before she had to report in. Trixie didn't mind being early. She slipped in through the main entrance, waved to the high schooler sitting behind the front desk, and quietly made her way to the empty break room. Taking off her jacket, she hung it up on one of the hooks and fished out Jim's cell phone. "I'd better turn this off," she said to herself and did just that. It had been impressed upon all of the employees that cell phone usage was not appropriate or acceptable and would not be tolerated during their shifts. Then she found some change, bought a bottle of water from the vending machine and sat down to read the newspaper. It was yesterday's edition but it would serve its purpose. She had time to kill before three o'clock.

It was tough to concentrate on the small black words of the thin newspaper. After reading the same sentence about plans for the upcoming Memorial Day parade for the fifth time, Trixie gave up and threw in the figurative towel. "This isn't doing me any good at all." Neatly folding up the newspaper, she placed it where she found it and rested her chin on her hand.

Taking a sip of her water, she thought back to the evening before and felt a blush start to work its way across her face. She gave a dry chuckle. A blush could find her, even when she was alone. The feel of Jim's arms around her had branded itself in her mind, as well as the pressure of his lips against her forehead. She touched the spot, could almost swear she could still feel it, and smiled to herself, reliving the sweetness of the memory.

The door opened and then banged shut quickly. Bringing her out of her daydream, Trixie shot up from her chair and hurried towards it. Tugging it open, she stared down the long, deserted hallway but didn't see a thing. Suddenly feeling uneasy, she let the door close behind her and strode swiftly down the hallway. She wasn't going to stay by herself in the break room. She ended up settling on a long sofa, where she watched the clock as it ticked the minutes away until three.

She was pathetically grateful when it was almost three o'clock, Jumping up from her seat, she relieved the first shift and took her seat. The phone rang the second she sat down. Turning to the computer, she entered the golf course reservation for the member and then hung up. Trixie waved to her friend as Diana Lynch blew through the front door, five minutes after three o'clock, and answered the phone for the second time.

Di scurried around the wide front desk with a small smile of apology. Shrugging out of her sweater, she draped it across her chair and sat down. "Sorry I'm late," she mumbled to Trixie, glancing guiltily around the large room and breathing a sigh of relief. It didn't seem like anyone other than Trixie had noticed her tardiness.

Trixie nodded in acknowledgement but continued to take down the information from the guest. "It is not a problem at all, Mr. Simpson. I have you switched your dinner reservation for the evening. I now have you down for a dinner reservation at 6:30 instead of 5:30. It is all taken care of." Then she paused and blushed again, feeling awkward. "Yes, I'm looking forward to going to the prom with Alex, too. You're right. It is hard to believe that it's only a week away. Tell him I said hello. All right. Thanks for calling." She hung up the phone and dropped her head in her hands.

"Alex's dad?" Di asked as she turned on the second computer at the front desk. She felt sympathy welling up within her for Trixie. It was becoming painfully obvious that she really did not want to attend the prom at all.

Trixie lifted her head and covered her red cheeks. "It seems the family will be coming here to eat tonight. Maybe that would be a good time to take my dinner break?" she suggested hopefully, lifting her eyebrows.

Di gave her a quick hug. "Don't worry, Trixie. It won't be bad. The Simpsons are a nice family, just like Alex is a really nice boy." Then she shrugged her shoulder. "Besides, I'll be here to offer you moral support. It won't be bad."

"I know. I know. I wouldn't feel so awful about it at all if I actually wanted to go to the prom with Alex." She gave a small shudder, remembering the last time they had talked. Her lips pulled down at the end. "I really hope he doesn't ask me about my dress again. I don't have anything different to tell him."

"You still don't have a dress?" Now that everything was settled with her prom date, Di was eagerly anticipating that evening that was exactly a week away. She had the dress, the shoes, the reservations for her hair and her make-up, and an active imagination. She was more than ready for it.

"Honey and I have made plans to go shopping tomorrow." Trixie dropped her head into her hands again. Her voice came out soft and muffled.

"Honey doesn't have a dress either?" Di tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear and sighed. Honey was a better sport about it than Trixie but it was crystal clear that neither of them were excited about attending their senior prom. "You two really don't want to go, do you?" Di could have easily rephrased it. It wasn't the prom or the lack of a dress. It was their prom dates that were making them less than enthusiastic.

Trixie lifted her eyebrows, about to answer, but was saved by the bell. The phone rang and she turned towards it. "Sleepyside Country Club," she chirped out merrily and wrote down the information as Di's phone rang. They spent the next half hour busily answering the phones and directing members and their guests to the correct places, without a moment of conversation available to them.

When it slowed down and the phone didn't ring for an entire three minutes, Trixie leaned towards Di and asked, unable to contain her curiosity for a minute longer, "Why were you late today, Di? Is everything okay?" She eyed the phone, hoping that it wouldn't ring and Di would be able to answer her question.

Di's brows furrowed while she pondered how to explain her tardiness. "It seems I've misplaced my planner," she explained haltingly. She was meticulous with her things, especially with her planner. It was inconceivable to her that she could have lost it. "I can't find it anywhere. You know how important it is to me. I keep everything in there, from the unexciting homework assignments that need to get done to birthdays to well, to anything that's going on in my life. I even keep track of the times I need to watch my brothers and sisters or if I need to pick them up." She finished with a funny little laugh. "I feel lost without it. But what's even worse is I can't imagine where I left it."

Trixie's interest was sparked. "When did you have it last?" Ever the detective, it was the first question that came to her mind.

"Yesterday. I know I had it after we had that delicious lunch from Wimpy's because I checked it when I got to my locker." Di bite her lip, picturing that moment clearly. "I put it in my locker when I exchanged my morning books for my afternoon books. I can't remember seeing it after that. I was in a hurry to leave at the end of the day, as we always are on a Friday. I thought I grabbed it from my locker but I can't be sure. I could have left it there."

Trixie covered her friend's hand with one of her own. "That's probably where it is, Di," she said simply, the mystery solved in her mind. "I'll bet you anything that you'll find it there when we get to school on Monday morning. We should all plan on getting ready earlier than normal. Then we can search your locker even sooner. It's going to be there. I just know it."

Di gifted her with a grateful smile and smoothed away the lines of worry on her forehead. "Thanks, Trix. I'd appreciate that. I should have known that one-half of the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency would be able to solve my case." She blew out a small breath. "Luckily I was able to remember the one homework assignment I had for the weekend. Otherwise I would be grasping at straws on what to do and then I wouldn't have been able to turn anything in on Monday morning."

Trixie could tell that her friend was still troubled by her missing planner. Searching for a topic of conversation, she quickly came up with, "Who dropped you off today? Was it your mom or dad?"

"No one today. I got to drive by myself. It was great!" She winked at Trixie, pleased with the sudden burst of freedom. "I saw that you did, too." She had seen Helen Belden's van in the parking lot.

"No one was around to chauffer me," Trixie answered with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. "Moms and Dad had to take Bobby to his game. They have a double-header today, as I'm sure you know. That's probably where the Lynch family is, too. They followed me here but that was it. Mart and Brian are helping Dan with a problem at the cabin. One of the pipes burst. Jim must be there, too."

"Our chauffeur has the weekend off. My parents decided it would be okay if I drove myself. They took both sets of twins with them to the game." She didn't add that her parents weren't as worried about her safety as they were about Trixie's. After all, she wasn't the target of the stalker. They had deemed it safe for Di to drive herself to work but had given their daughter specific instructions to call them when she made it to work.

The phones simultaneously started ringing again, much to the collective amusement of the two girls. In perfect unison, they reached for the phone and answered in the same blithe tone, "Sleepyside Country Club." Both had to cover their giggles while they concentrated on the members on the other end of the phone.

After a series of phone calls, Di hung up her phone and stretched her arms above her head, feeling stiff from sitting in the chair for so long. The unmistakably sound of her cell phone vibrating came from the pocket of her sweater. "Oh, I forgot about it!" she exclaimed guiltily, searching around the large room to see if anyone else had heard it, and dying to see who it was.

"I won't say a word. Go ahead. Answer it," Trixie insisted softly. She moved closer to Di to help block her movements, in case anyone would be interested in what she was doing. Trixie did her best to appear busy without reading the text over Di's shoulder.

Di surreptitiously slipped the phone out of her sweater's pocket, palmed it, and read it swiftly before closing it and putting it back in its place. "It was from my mom. I have to pick my brothers up at their friend's house," she whispered furtively to Trixie. "They must have gone to Zack's house after the game."

"Zack Easterly?" Trixie inquired, finding the name oddly familiar. "He lives close to here, right? Right off of Trey Road, doesn't he?" She chuckled when she remembered why she knew him. "I picked Bobby up at his house a few weeks ago. They were partners on some kind of experiment for the school's science fair in April." Then the laughter bubbled over.

"Was it a baking soda volcano?" Di questioned pertly, tongue in cheek.

Trixie stifled the laughter as best as she could. She still earned some interested looks from the members. "Of course. Isn't that the most popular experiment you can find at any school's science fair? Theirs was pretty neat. The 'lava' managed to hit the ceiling in Zack's kitchen. When I got there, Mrs. Easterly was scrubbing it off the ceiling with a mop." She looked pointedly at Di. "Needless to say, Moms did not let Bobby set it off in our house."

"His house isn't that far away from here. Larry and Terry have been over there before, too. I think I picked them up there last week or maybe the week before. I can't remember." Di had to chuckle at herself. Without her planner, she was lost when it came to dates. "They're pretty good friends with Zack, although Bobby is their best friend. But you know that."

Trixie glanced up as the front door opened and felt her eyes go wide with surprise. Jeffrey Saunders, the director of the Country Club marched in, with Sergeant Molinson and another officer at his side. He didn't look happy and he didn't meet the eyes of any of the guests and hurried down the hallway, his steps long and quick. Trixie could tell that he was uncomfortable escorting two police officers into the Country Club. She was fortunate enough to know what the police officers were looking for.

Trixie caught the sergeant's eyes as he walked past but he didn't offer her anything other than a curt tilt of his head. "He must be here to get the employee records," she murmured under her breath. It had taken long enough. Judging by the speed of which Mr. Saunders hurried down the hall to his office, she imagined he hadn't been pleased by the request.

Having heard her, Di gave her a curious look. "Employee records? What are you talking about, Trix?"

In a very quiet undertone, Trixie swiftly told Di the latest and explained why Sergeant Molinson was at the Country Club. "And, so, he's trying to find out if there really is a connection between an employee here and at our school," she finished, as quietly as she could.

Di's lavender eyes darkened at the news. Covering her hand with her mouth, she threw a glance down the hallway and shuddered, terrified by the revelations. If her parents had known the newest, she doubted if they would have been so cavalier about letting her drive by herself. "That's awful, Trix. To believe that someone here or at our school could be responsible…" She couldn't finish the thought, too appalled to even think of it, and settled for shaking her head. "It's just awful."

"Tell me about it." A few minutes later the sergeant and his officer came back down the hallway, without the presence of the director. The officer was holding a closed box. She knew what was inside. "Good evening," Trixie murmured lowly as they passed by the front desk, hoping to get an inside scoop from the sergeant.

He stopped long enough to give her a knowing look and then answered back, "Have a good night." Sergeant Molinson turned and disappeared through the front door, taking the officer and the employee records with him. All hopes of finding out if he had discovered a connection between the stalker and the school or the Country Club went with him.

And in walked the Simpsons, taking away all other thoughts from Trixie. Embarrassed, she ducked her head and made herself look busy, pretending to type on the computer; all the while trying to ignore the soft snickering coming from Di.

"Really, Trixie," Di chuckled besides her, giving her head a shake. "It's not going to be that bad. The prom is only for one night. Not even a full night. One evening, really. Only one evening and in the company of a really nice boy? You're going to be fine."

Trixie didn't explain that the only person she wanted to go with had red hair and eyes the color of the purest of emeralds, not with her date and his parents entering the room. She also couldn't explain that it went against her own honor to go out on a date with someone when she had such strong feelings for another, feelings that were growing and intensifying with each second that she spent with him. "Hello, Alex," she mumbled out when he stood at the front desk.

"Good evening, Trixie, Diana," he greeted the girls while his parents smiled at them and then continued into the restaurant. "I didn't realize you were both working tonight."

"We volunteered," Trixie explained, doing her best to meet his gaze and not shift in her seat. She failed. Miserably. "This is my last shift here, at the front desk. We've been helping out since the regular person is on vacation this week. I'll be lifeguarding the rest of the summer, though. Di will be manning the front desk." She could feel that she was rambling but couldn't seem to stop herself. As nice of a person as he was, she really didn't want to go to the prom with him.

"Right." Alex couldn't help but see how nervous his prom date seemed to be and hid his own sigh of disappointment. It looked like next Saturday was going to be an awkward evening for him, as well as for her, despite his best intentions to have it otherwise. "Well, my mother and father are waiting for me inside. It was good to see you. Hope you two have a great night." He turned on his heels and walked into the restaurant.

"Now that was uncomfortable," Di noted when he was safely out of ear shot. She played with the phone cord and stared at Trixie from underneath her thick lashes. "I think I need to apologize to you," she announced suddenly.

She shook away her own thoughts about the upcoming prom and stared at Di. "What do you have to apologize for, Di?"

"Honey and I should never have pressured you into agreeing to go to the prom." Di laid a hand on Trixie's forearm. "We shouldn't have done that. I'm very sorry about that now. We really should have listened more closely to you when you told us that you didn't want to go and not have forced the issue."

Trixie shrugged her shoulder and met Di's eyes squarely. "There's nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who agreed to go with Alex. It's not your fault that I'm looking forward to it about as much as I would if I were, say, getting a root canal or having my appendix taken out."

Di covered her sharp bark of laughter with her hand. Flushing, she tried not to notice the interested stares coming her way. She doubted if they would ever let her and Trixie work together again. "Well, it's only one evening," she finally said. "I'll do my best to make it easier for you."

"Maybe something will suddenly come up and I won't have to go." Trixie flashed a grin at Di. It sounded good to her. Maybe her parents would even forbid her to attend the prom. She wouldn't complain. "You never know. Weirder things have happened."

"That's true." Most of those 'weird' things involved a mystery and Trixie was smack-dab in the middle of one, even if it wasn't one of her making or her choosing. She offered softly, "But I hope nothing happens between now and the prom and that you are able to have a lovely time next Saturday evening."

Trixie was about to reply when the phone rang again. She answered it, took down the information, and competently entered it into the computer. While she was working, a member came up to ask Di a question. The next round of activity attacked them. They didn't have a chance to converse but were constantly answering the phones, changing or updating information, and assisting the guests and their members. The girls were kept busy until the end of the evening, barely having enough time to even stop for a dinner break.

At five of nine, Trixie groaned and pushed herself back from the chair. The phone had been quiet for three blissful minutes. She eyed it warily, thinking she would have to shoot it if it rang again. "I do not envy you having to do this all summer long! I don't even want to tell you what I will do to that phone if it rings again," she gritted out, fed up with the job. "If you don't have a problem with it, I'm going to go back to the break room and get my jacket. I want to leave as close to nine as I can."

Di put her hands on her neck and tried to massage away the tension. "I know what you mean, Trixie. Go ahead. I'll clean up the desk." Waving her off, she straightened up their work station, making sure that all the papers were stacked neatly and that pens were returned to their correct places. "It's looking good," she decided aloud. Then she slipped on her sweater and turned on her cell phone, waiting patiently for the clock to announce that it was nine o'clock.

Trixie came back down the hallway with her jacket on and zipped up. She stopped by Di, who was in the process of shutting down her computer, and was about to say goodbye. The phone gave its shrill ring, the one that she imagined she would be hearing in her sleep, and interrupting her intentions; the caller on the other end obviously not caring that it was a minute past business hours. Wishing she had it in her to just let the call go, Trixie reached for it and nodded at Di, who gave her a grateful smile.

"'Bye, Trix," she mouthed at her before pushing in her chair and walking gracefully towards the front door.

Trixie cradled the phone to her cheek and took down the information from the member, who was very apologetic but needed to cancel his appointment on the golf course for the morning. "It's not a problem, sir. You do not need to worry at all," she hastened to assure him and made the changes in her computer. "It's all taken care of. We'll see you next weekend instead. You're welcome. Have a good night."

She hung up the phone with a relieved sigh only to have to bite it back when the phone rang yet again. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was now five minutes past nine o'clock. Time, as usual, was not on her side. She had serious doubts that time would ever be an ally of hers. Frowning, her greeting wasn't nearly as chirpy as it had been at three.

"Trixie, I'm glad I caught you!" Helen responded breathlessly the second she heard her daughter's voice. "Thank goodness you haven't left the Country Club yet."

Bewildered, Trixie sat back down. Her mom sounded strained, not like her usually composed self. Something was wrong. Twirling the cord around her finger, she inquired carefully, "I hadn't expected to hear from you tonight, Moms. Is everything okay?"

Helen shook her head, even though Trixie couldn't see it. She glanced back at the waiting room where Peter and Bobby were waiting with the Lynches. "No, not really, Trixie. There are a few problems right now. You see, I haven't been able to get in touch with any of the boys." She smoothed her hand over her hair, feeling frazzled and hating it.

Understanding why that could be a problem, Trixie suggested easily and correctly, "They're probably still at Mr. Maypenny's cabin. I'll bet it took them longer than they expected to fix the pipe. Knowing Mart, I would also be willing to bet that they stopped for dinner, too. Probably a large one, at that." A small frown on her face when her mother didn't laugh, she urged her on. "You mentioned that there were a few problems. What are the other ones?"

Helen sighed before she started over, hoping that she was making sense to Trixie because she certainly wasn't making sense to herself, "You know the first one. I haven't been able to talk to Mart or Brian. Dan and Jim are unreachable, either." She had tried very hard to get someone over to the Country Club to follow Trixie but every thought had met with failure. She was left a solution that scared the hell out of her. "You're going to need to drive to the Manor House on your own. I got off the phone with Miss Trask right before I called you. She's expecting you there within the next ten minutes or so. I need you to promise me that you'll go straight there and not anywhere else. Do you understand, Trixie? Go to the Manor House. Nowhere else." She stressed the last words, as if she was talking to toddler Trixie instead of an almost high school graduate.

Trixie wasn't offended. Hearing the worry in her mother's voice, Trixie would have promised her just about anything. "All right. I'll go straight to Honey's." She paused but couldn't prevent herself from asking, "Can you tell me why I have to go to the Manor House? Why can't I go home?"

"No one is home. Except for Reddy, of course, and, well, and with everything that is going on right now, your father and I do not want you home alone." Helen shivered, clamping down hard on her own imagination. It was every bit as vivid as her daughter's.

Trixie slumped back in the chair. Staring straight ahead, she tried to piece together what was happening but couldn't. Her mother was uncharacteristically flustered and it was started to drive her crazy. "Moms, where are you?" She kept the question easy, needing a simple answer and not the long-winded and tedious ones she had been getting from her mother.

Helen answer was as simple as Trixie wanted. "We're all at the hospital."

Trixie's back went ramrod straight. Fanning her hands on top of the desk, she bit out harshly, her heart in her throat, "Why are you at the…Bobby! Did anything happen to Bobby? Is he hurt?" Jumping to the logical conclusion, she leaned forward, her hand over her mouth.

"No, no. Nothing's wrong with Bobby or any other Belden. Other than being extremely worried, Bobby is fine, perfectly fine," Helen assured her hurriedly. She dropped her head in her hands. "I'm not explaining this well, am I?" She released a small nervous giggle that didn't help her cause at all.

"It's okay, Moms. I don't care. I only want to know what's happening." Trixie recapped quickly, hoping to give her mother time to compose herself, "So far, all I know is that I need to go to Honey's instead of coming home, that you, Dad and Bobby are at the hospital, and that you can't reach any of the boys."

"Yes, yes, that's all correct." It helped to hear Trixie repeat what she was trying to tell her. "This is what happened, dear. We were in the last inning of the last game of the double-header. The game was tied. Larry was on first with two outs when Bobby got up to bat. He hit a line drive down the right field line. I think it's officially rated as a double. Anyway, Larry tried to make it home before they threw him out. He slid in under the tag but managed to break his ankle in the process. So that's why we're at the hospital. Bobby absolutely refused to go home without knowing how his friend is doing." Helen slumped against the wall, grateful that she had been able to get the story out.

"That's horrible! Bobby doesn't want to leave until Larry is taken care of, right?" Trixie guessed correctly. She knew her little brother well. He would feel responsible for the break, even though it wasn't his fault.

"Yes." Helen closed her eyes, trying to block out the sight of the compound fracture, as well as the sound Larry had made when it had happened. It had turned her stomach. "That's it in a nutshell. We won't be able to leave the hospital until Larry is out of surgery. Bobby is refusing to budge. It could be hours before we can get home."

"Well, don't worry about me, Moms. I'll go straight to Honey's." Trixie spoke strongly, wanting her mom to believe in her, and firmly believing that she would be able to uphold her promise. "I won't go anywhere else, no matter what happens. I promise."

"I believe you, dear, and I thank you. I'll let your dad know. It will make him feel better." Peter hated the thought of Trixie driving on the road by herself as much as she did, especially at night. It didn't matter that the Country Club was only a few miles down the road from the Manor House. "Keep trying to get in touch with your brothers, too. They need to know where we all are." Helen could only imagine their reactions if they arrived at a dark and deserted Crabapple Farm. They would be instantly terrified that something had happened.

"Will do. I'll keep calling them until I get through to them." Trixie competently shut down her computer and pushed in her chair. Giving the work area a thorough glance, she nodded her head, deciding that it was left as neat as it had been when she started her shift. "Do you want me to call you when I get there?" she offered. "I should be able call you in about ten minutes. It doesn't take that long to get to Honey's from here."

"Of course, dear. I'll be waiting for your call on my cell phone." Helen studied the ceiling, wishing there was another way to get Trixie to the Manor House safely. They had tried. The Wheelers hadn't been available; they had received a belated invitation to the mayor's home for dinner and hadn't been able to decline it, even though they would rather have spent the evening at home. Tom and Celia were taking in a movie. Even Regan had plans. He had gone out to eat with a lady friend. Which, unfortunately, left no one to meet Trixie and follow her home. "Thanks for your understanding, Trixie. I am very sorry about everything. Have a safe trip. Please."

Trixie hung up the phone and strode swiftly to the door. Stepping out into the night, she was surprised to see how dark the sky was. The moon was completely hidden behind thick, dark clouds, with not one ray of light able to penetrate through. The only lighting was artificially made. There was plenty of that. The air itself was cool, the coolest it had been all week. As a sharp breeze blew through, she huddled inside her jacket and started towards the parking lot. She made sure to stay close to a couple who was leaving the restaurant, not wanting to walk to the parking lot alone. When she made it to her mother's van, she carefully checked the tires and then looked in each window to make sure there weren't any unwelcome surprises for her and then climbed in, locking the door behind her. Starting up the car, she pulled forward and followed a line of departing guests to the end of the parking lot.

Last in line, she waited her turn patiently, carefully inching up until it was her turn. A careful driver, she looked to the left and to the right. Not surprising, no one was coming on either end of quiet Glen Road. As she was preparing to make the right turn that would take her to the Manor House and safety, she came to a sudden and halting stop. The engine idled while her brain started to work furiously. "Wait a minute," she mumbled to herself. "Wait just one single minute." Something was nagging at her and that something had to do with…Di. "Something is wrong here. Something is very, very wrong."

Trixie cocked her head to one side, lost in thought. Ordering herself to think back, she spoke quietly and methodically, "It was a while ago when Di told me that she got a text from her mom, telling her that she needed to pick her brothers up at the Easterlys on Trey Road. But my mom said that the Lynches were at the hospital because Larry had…" She drew in a deep, harsh breath, the two pieces of information contradicting each other, and painting a portrait of total and utter horror.

Blue eyes grew larger while her brain worked furiously to piece together the newest pieces of information. "No. It can't be." She shook her head, trying to deny it. But it was. It was a moment of pure clarity, one where she was able to see it all through new eyes. Everything tilted. The events of the past week and a half flashed through her mind, beginning with the event that had started it all. The letter had been placed in her backpack, the one that was identical to Di's. What if… she couldn't finish the overwhelming thought. If what she was thinking was true, then Di was in more danger than she had ever been.

She fumbled for Jim's cell in her pocket, trying to keep her promise to alert anyone should something suspicious happen. Although his phone was much fancier than hers or Mart's, she knew the basic way to operate it. Frustrated, she couldn't get the blasted thing to turn on. "What the hell is wrong with this thing? I know I charged it." Fighting the urge to throw it against the floor, she flipped it over and slipped off the backing. No battery. There was no battery. "It had a battery when I came to work," she muttered inanely to herself. "I know it had a battery because I turned it off." She could visualize her actions clearly. She knew she had turned the phone off and placed it back in her jacket, right before the start of her shift. The phone had worked perfectly then.

"No battery. There is no battery in the phone." She spoke aloud, her words thin and strained, and felt foolish. Batteries didn't just disappear. The only way it would have disappeared was if someone took it out. Her eyes narrowed into thin strips of pure, furious blue. A sharp curse word, one that she had never spoken before, fell fiercely from her lips, but it did nothing to alleviate the anger and the anxiety that were building within her.

Trixie dropped the useless phone and ran her fingers through her hair, unintentionally pulling out the barrettes that had pinned back her curls. "Come on, Belden. Think. What am I going to do now?" Covering her mouth with a hand, she glanced at the right, which would take her down Glen Road and to the Manor House and to definite safety. She could alert the cavalry, get a police car over to Trey Road, hopefully in enough time to help Di, should she need it. But that would take minutes, precious minutes, that Di may not have. If she went left, she would end up on Trey Road and…she didn't know what she would find. Maybe nothing but Trixie had serious doubts about that. Things were adding up way too quickly for her. "Di could be in trouble," she reasoned aloud, her heart beating rapidly. "She could be in serious trouble." It didn't take any more thought than that. Silently apologizing to all of the people she had made promises to, promises that she was now willingly about to break, she gave the van the right amount of gas and took the left turn without a backward glance.

She traveled slowly along Glen Road, carefully searching for any signs that something could be wrong. It was difficult to do in the dark, especially without the light of the moon to help. Then she found herself on Trey Road, a one-lane road that didn't even have a yellow line painted down the center of it, and was even quieter than Glen Road. The Easterlys were the only people who lived on the road. Their house was set a good five miles in. As she traveled along the road, she saw a set of headlights up ahead glinting through the darkness. The lights weren't on the road. They were pointing off to the side. Slowly, she parked her mom's van a few feet down from where the source of the lights were. Vaguely remembering to turn it off, she opened the door and sprinted towards the source, stuffing the keys into her pocket while she went. What she saw confirmed her suspicions. There were two cars. One car she didn't know. She barely gave it a passing glance other than to get the basics. A beat-up dark brown sedan. Nondescript. Running up to Di's father's car, which was well off the road and had slammed into a tree, she peered inside the open driver's side door. The keys were still in the ignition. The engine was still running. The radio was blaring out a current Kelly Clarkson song. The headlights were pointing down a short embankment. And Trixie's fright grew tenfold. She reached inside to turn it off and saw Di's cell phone resting in the console. Picking it up, she turned it over and grimaced. It needed to be charged. Knowing she would be lucky to complete even one phone call, she hastily dialed the police station first. Looking out into the dark that was threatening to surround her, she barked into the phone when the dispatcher answered, "Get Sergeant Molinson out to Trey Road. Now!"

Not waiting for an answer, she hung up and called Honey's cell phone next. "Come on, Honey! Answer, answer your phone!" Her words were useless. She didn't answer. Forced to leave a message, Trixie said as fiercely as she could, knowing that her friend would be able to figure out her garbled message, "Honey, it's Di. It's not me. It's Di. Get everyone that you can and get to Trey Road. Now." She hung up, swearing again, and dialed the next number, hoping that the battery wouldn't give out.

Mart's voicemail picked up on the fourth ring. Realizing he, as well as the rest of the male Bob-Whites, were most likely still at the cabin and well out of cell phone service and too far away to help, she closed her eyes, battling against an onslaught of defeated tears and wondering why the hell they weren't there when she needed them, but resolutely refused to let the hopelessness of the situation overtake her. "This is not going well. It's not. It's not," she grumbled and tried to steady her voice for the message. "Mart, this is Trixie. Di's in trouble. Get to Trey…" The bleep let her know that the battery on Di's phone had run out.

Frustrated, Trixie dropped the phone on the ground, stared into the woods and pondered what she should do. Wait for the police, if they should even respond to her abrupt message, or wait for Honey and whoever she could gather together to come, once she got the message, or… A muffled scream from somewhere far off in the dark and shadowy distance made up her mind. Waiting wasn't an option. Her mouth a thin straight line, she took the time to pop the trunk of Di's car. Searching for anything that could be considered a weapon, she grabbed a tire iron and stealthily made her way into the woods, heading in the direction of the scream, praying the entire way that she wasn't too late.


	32. Chapter 31

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Thirty-One

_Fifteen minutes earlier…_

Di hummed as she walked through the night, smiling at the people she passed on her way to the parking lot. "I'll have to remember to thank Trixie for answering that last phone call," she said to herself, making a mental note of it. Coming up on her father's stylish car, she beeped it open and slid inside, delighted to have the evening almost at the end. All she had left to do before soaking her tired body in a bubble-filled tub was pick up her brothers at the Easterlys. "Another twenty minutes and I'll be home!"

Di pulled out onto Glen Road, making the left necessary to take her to Trey Road. Liking the song on the radio, she turned it up and sang along, in a slightly off-key voice, bopping her head along with the music. The scenery flashed by quickly as she traveled along a little faster than the road allowed. She was eager to finish her chore and get home. Before she knew it, she was making the turn onto Trey Road and traveling along the quiet country lane, lost in the music and hardly paying attention to where she was going.

She followed the road as it dipped and then rose into a crest. At the top of the crest, she gasped, horrified. Something was blocking the road. A car. It was parked sideways on the road. She rubbed her eyes to make sure that it wasn't an apparition. It was real, much to her shocked senses. Unable to bring the car to a stop before she crashed into the vehicle, she turned the steering wheel sharply. All she could concentrate on was the loud crunching of the ground under her tires, the passing blur of the branches scratching the car, and then the approaching tree. It all seemed to happen in ultra slow motion until right before the crash. Then it sped up, went so fast that it nearly made her dizzy. She had enough sense left to hit the brakes mere seconds before the car slammed into the tree.

The seatbelt was useless. The airbag didn't deploy. Di slammed her forehead against the windshield, felt blood start to trickle from the cut and the subsequent bruising, and was momentarily dazed and more than confused. Bringing a shaking hand to her forehead, she felt the large knot, as well as the blood. Looking at the blood on her hand, she felt like she had never seen anything like it before. She had the mindless thought that her father was going to be extremely ticked off at the manufacturer right before she caught a movement out of the corner of her eyes. The car that had been in the road was now parking behind her. Some form of self-preservation that she didn't even know she possessed told her that she needed to get away. Now. As fast and as far as she could. Before her intention registered on her jumbled brain, her hand was throwing open the door. She struggled a bit with her seatbelt but was able to undo it. Stumbling, she hit the ground after opening the door, gasping at the sharp contact of the rocks on her knees. Then she jumped to her feet. Her head felt like it was twice her normal size but she didn't pay it any attention. Instead, she turned and, driven by instinct brought on by the primal need for survival, she fled the scene, using the headlights to guide her as she staggered down the embankment and disappeared into the darkness of the woods.

She alternately stumbled and ran; her steps wobbly and uncertain, more like those of a newborn foal than the normally graceful young woman that she was. She lost precious seconds every time she glanced behind her to see if she was being followed but there wasn't a single doubt in her mind. Someone was after her. She could hear the footsteps, which were much more deliberate than hers. Breathing hard, trying to keep a tight hold of the panic that was threatening to overtake her, she pressed on, not knowing where she was going or taking note of where she went. For all she knew, she could have been running around in circles. She simply forged ahead, hoping against hope that she was choosing the right paths, and putting distance between herself and whoever it was pursuing her.

The dark completely surrounded her now, with no end in sight. Not even a solitary star shone to break the monotonous black of the night. She cursed the moon for its inability to glow and forged on, tripping over an unseen tree root and falling to the ground. Biting back a sharp cry, she scrambled to her feet and continued on, fervently wishing that she had Trixie's courage. Scenes from that awful night many years before, when they were alone and were being chased in the Empire State Building, with the jewel thieves closing in on them, flashed through her mind. It had been clear to her at that point in time that she wasn't cut out for the type of adventure that Trixie and Honey seemed to crave. Tonight didn't change her thoughts, only solidified them.

She wasn't sure what was louder; her breathing or the sound of her heart beating. It sounded like it wanted to pound right through her chest. Then she heard a few noises that made her heart rate accelerate even more. A cracking twig. The whoosh as a tree branch was pushed aside and snapped back into place. It sounded too close to her, like it was only a few inches away. Feeling as if everything was closing in on her, Di stopped running and frantically turned around, looking for somewhere, anywhere, that she could hide. She didn't know what else to do. Outrunning him wasn't an option. She spotted a set of overgrown bushes and scurried over to them, trying to muffle the sound of her own footsteps as much as possible, and carefully crouched down. She turned herself into a ball, trying to make herself as small as possible, and ignored the aftereffects of her accident the best that she could. But it was hard. Her head ached. Her body ached. And she simply couldn't run another step. She flipped the hood of her sweater over her hair, hoping to hide even further, and drew even closer against the bushes.

It was difficult to keep still. She didn't even dare to breathe. Watching with overly large eyes, perilously close to going into shock, she watched as the lone man came into her view. Instinctively, she pulled herself back even further, terrified by his intrusion into the glade, and forced herself to watch him. From the distance between them and the shadows flirting across his face, she couldn't tell who he was. All she knew was that he appeared to be on the small side for a man, only a little taller than her, and thin. He stood in the glade for a minute, scanning the area closely, but he didn't appear to see her. He put a hand over his ear as if he was trying to amplify any possible sound and frowned. It was with a great deal of relief that Di saw him leave the area.

She wanted to make a break for it right away but she squashed down the impulse. It was beyond hard, possibly the most difficult thing she have had to do, but she made herself stay perfectly still for at least five minutes before she found the ability to stand up. She did it. Quietly as possible, with one last glance in the direction the man had disappeared to, she started forward.

She only made it five feet before her arm was grabbed, halting her progress, and making her scream, loud and shrilly. "Going somewhere, Diana?" a familiar-sounding voice whispered triumphantly.

She recognized the voice. She couldn't place it but she knew it, from somewhere within the dark recesses of her mind. For some reason, it heightened the fear that she felt. Breathing continued to be difficult, was nearly impossible. "Let me go," Di managed to get out past her suddenly slack lips. Her voice sounded weak and thin to her own ears.

"I don't think so," he murmured back, his voice gloating with success. His patience had paid off. He had seen her, hiding next to the bushes, but had intentionally waited for her to make her escape. Her capture was more dramatic that way and filled him an enormous sense of power and pleasure. He planned on heightening the two feelings over the next few hours. "I don't think so at all, my lovely Diana. I finally have you right where I want you. There isn't a force on this earth that could make me let you go now that I have you."

Sheer and absolute terror gripped her, even harder than the fingers digging into her upper arm. Glancing wildly about, frantically hoping that someone, anyone, had seen her car and was coming to help her, she opened her mouth to scream again.

His laughter cut her off. "Go right ahead, Diana. Scream all you want," he invited her, all good cheer now that he had her. "There is no one near to here you. No one at all. No one is home at the only house on this godforsaken road. I know. I already checked." His breath was warm against her cheek as he whispered, "And I like the sound of your voice too much. Whether you are screaming or whimpering, it doesn't make a difference to me."

The scream she had intended came out as a pained gasp instead. Her chest was rising and falling with each word that he said. They peppered her with the force of bullets from a gun, rendering her just as helpless, just as vulnerable. She tried to tug her arm away but he only held on tighter, pulling her even closer against him, despite her struggles to get away. The struggles stopped. She cringed when he ran his hand up and down her arm. Not wanting to see into the eyes of the monster that held her, Di gave a feeble attempt to step away, to at least gain an inch of space between them.

He wasn't about to let that happen, not when his prize was in his grasp. His other arm snaked around her waist, brought her closer to him. With his breath warm on her neck, causing her to shiver in alarm, he chuckled exultantly. "I wonder what that pitiful excuse you have for a boyfriend is going to think now. I can't even begin to tell you how much I've wanted to wring his scrawny neck for daring to even talk to you." He couldn't. She was _his_, dammit. Remembering all the times he had witnessed that damn Belden boy with her made his blood boil with renewed fury. "I thought I was mad when I overheard you tell that blonde bitch of a sister of his that you had asked him to take you to your prom. But mad couldn't even begin to describe how I felt when I saw him kiss you that evening at the Country Club. I knew then I would have to make him pay, in some way."

"You…you slashed his tires!" Di got out bravely, staring straight ahead. "Not because of Trixie but because of…" Her words trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. She covered her mouth with a shaking hand.

"You." His laugh was low, evil and full of intense satisfaction. "Not that poor excuse for a schoolgirl detective. You. At first I was furious when I saw her open the letter that I had intended for you." His eyes took on a faraway look while he remembered the frustration. It had clawed at him, gnawed at him, until he had eventually accepted it and deviated from his planned course of action. His teeth gleamed in the darkness while he gave what some optimistic fool could say passed for a smile. He remembered how he had followed her to the vending machines, during her lunch wave. The Belden girl had been in the hallway, all alone, until the coach had come into view. It had taken all of his willpower not to pick up one of the weights he had left behind and smash it against her head.

He shook away the memories. His perseverance was paying off, exactly as he had expected it to. "It took me a whole day to calm down after I had realized my mistake. I hadn't paid close enough attention to your backpacks. I didn't realize that the two of you had the same ones. All of my plans, derailed because of…" He left the rest unsaid. Giving a small shrug of his shoulder, he added, his thumb rubbing small circles against the fabric of her sweater, "Then I was able to clearly see how I could use it to my advantage."

The words didn't register. He could have been speaking in a foreign tongue for all the sense he was making to her. Too scared to even think, all Di could do was to concentrate on her breathing. Images of Mart passed in front of her eyes. Smiling, laughing, joking, holding her, hugging her, kissing her. All helped her gain some strength and made her strongly wish that she was with him, wherever he was, instead of here, in this horrifying purgatory. Then his hand caressed her cheek. The feel of his rough fingers against her skin made her cringe, in a desperate attempt to get away from his touch. She didn't have anywhere else to go; only against the chest behind her. It wasn't a safe haven, wasn't anywhere close to where she wanted to be. She desperately needed out of his grasp. Calling on an untapped source of courage she didn't even realize she possessed, Di brought her foot up and connected the small heel of her shoe with the instep of his foot. Howling in rage, he loosened his hold on her long enough for Di to push herself away.

She didn't get far. Ten inches, tops. The fingers that tangled in her hair were merciless. They grabbed onto the thick, dark tresses and gave a hard tug that had tears popping into the corners of her lavender eyes and streaming down her ashen cheeks. Half-turning from the force of the tug, she fell to her knees. The moon chose that moment to break through the thick clouds. A thin shaft of light fell across his face, letting her see the identity of the horrible man who was grinning maniacally down at her. "Uncle Monty!" she gasped out, forgetting that he wasn't her actual uncle, the kind one who lived far away in Arizona, but Tilney Britten, the man who had successfully impersonated him during the fall a few years back until Trixie and Mart had unintentionally worked together to unmask him. "But…but…but...you're in jail!"

"I'm out on parole, for being a model prisoner during the first three years of my incarceration. I learned quickly how the system worked and I used it to my advantage," he explained to her, smoothing back her black hair. He had never experienced such silkiness before. He imagined he could stroke it forever. "It's a good thing I am not your real uncle, not with the plans that I have for you."

"But…parole?" Di couldn't think, not with his hands on her, and she needed something to concentrate on besides the 'plans' he had for her. What she knew about the parole system could fit on the head of a sewing needle but she knew enough that they had to report in. "You are out on parole?"

"We've got all the time in the world. I'll be glad to tell you all," he told her, feeling supremely confident in his acquisition of her. There simply wasn't a way she could escape. "But you'll have to ask nicely. You never were that nice to me when I was a guest in your home, were you? That rankled, my dear."

She didn't want to know anything that he had to tell her. She certainly didn't want to be nice to him but, if it kept him from completing whatever it was he wanted from her, and she had a pretty good idea about that, she could stand it. "Please," she asked from her shaking lips, her voice wispy and hoarse.

He loved the thread of fear he heard in her voice. It made him feel even more powerful, ever more in control. And the fact that she was begging him for an explanation pleased him immensely. He suspected she would be begging for a lot more before the night was finished. "That's very nice, Diana. I'll have to hear you say that more often." He nodded his head. Keeping a strong arm around her waist, he pulled her up and around, wanting to look directly into the face that had haunted him since he had been sent away. Perfection. Sheer and utter perfection. He touched it again before gloating, "I had all the time in the world to make plans, grand plans, while I was in prison. I seriously doubt if I would have been successful if I hadn't been given the gift of the absolute worst parole officer in the world." It had been a sign from Providence that he was meant to follow through on his plans. "Simmons is his name. He's only in it for the paycheck. He told me he is only a few weeks away from retiring, too. As long as I call him on a weekly basis and physically meet with him once a month, he leaves me alone."

He was a chameleon. She had witnessed it firsthand. Her parents had been the victim of it, too. She was sure he had charmed the parole officer, making him believe that he wasn't a threat, and could easily be trusted. "Then you came here," she choked out through her suddenly dry throat.

"Once I had gained Simmons' trust, I did. It took a few months." The few months had practically killed him. He had been itching to get to Sleepyside but the wait had been worth it. Simmons hadn't caused a problem for him, just like he had hoped he wouldn't. "I made a withdrawal on a hefty sum of money I had saved before I came to your family. It had been under an assumed name so it wasn't touched by the government during my trial or my subsequent incarceration." His eyes gleamed while he recalled the satisfaction he had felt that day, leaving the bank with enough money to fund the plans he had made. "Soon after that I visited a friend of mine who owed me a large favor, bought a new identity, and slowly made my way here."

Di saw the changes in him. His face had filled out, most likely from the food in the prison. His arms were surprisingly muscular, much more than they had been when he had stayed with her family, proof that he had made good use of the prison's weight lifting equipment. His hair had thinned, was cropped short and had grayed. Whether by nature or a bottle, she couldn't tell. And his eyes…they weren't brown anymore. They were a startling, piercing, and terrifying blue.

"You like my eyes, do you?" He saw where she was looking and nodded. "That damn snoop seemed to like the color blue for eyes. Do you remember that? It seemed to hold a lot of importance to her. When I bought my contacts, I made sure to get them in that color, just for her." He laughed again, darkly and evilly, without any hint of humor to it. "I did a pretty good job of disguising myself, didn't I?"

He didn't even sound the same. His voice was harsher and deeper. The changes were unbelievable. She hadn't been able to pick him out. Neither had Honey or Trixie. Wanting to keep him talking, she searched through her mind and eventually came up with, "What did you do when you got to Sleepyside?"

"I followed you around for awhile. You didn't have a clue you were being watched. You are so innocent." He had taken pictures, tons of pictures, which littered the walls of his tiny apartment and filled five large scrapbooks. Pictures of Di alone, with her friends, laughing, studying, riding her horse, going into her house, pictures of her at school, at her friends' homes and at the Country Club. He knew them all by heart. "I wasn't going to be able to get through that damn security system at your house, which was my first plan, so I had to adapt." He smirked, pleased with himself. "I've discovered that I'm rather good at adapting."

Di heard a twig snap. It could have been made by any forest animal but she couldn't stop the small spurt of hope that bubbled up within her. Maybe, just maybe, there was someone out there, waiting for the opportunity to help her. Keep him occupied, she thought to herself. Keep him talking. Don't let him touch you. "What…what did you do next?"

He rubbed her back, moving his hand in slow, deliberate circles that had her shivering in distaste. "I used my new identity. When a position opened up at your school for a part-time custodian, I applied for it and got it. It was a great test for my new identity. I must have done an excellent job at altering my looks. None of you recognized me." His eyes glinted with a dark humor she didn't appreciate.

They wouldn't have recognized him. They wouldn't have had any reason to suspect he was around. "And the Country Club?"

"They advertised for part-time help, too." He rested his hand at her waist and squeezed it. Hard. She had to fight the urge to vomit. Chuckling again, he thought about the three girls and how foolish they were. "You three are such a bunch of cackling hens. Diana, Trixie and Honey. It wasn't hard to follow your plans. Everything I needed to know I learned simply from eavesdropping." He wagged a finger in front of her nose. "It doesn't pay to be so open, Diana. You should remember that."

No, it certainly did not. It was all coming together, exactly as Trixie had predicted it. He worked at both places. He had listened in on their conversations. She wanted to swear. She wanted to cry. She did neither. Keep him talking, keep him talking, keep him talking, began to run like a mantra through her mind. "You…you said that you were good at adapting." Di swallowed hard. She didn't want to hear about his plans but she wanted to keep him busy. "What else did you have to adapt to?"

"You already know." He stared hard at the lips that had haunted his dreams and driven him past the point of madness. He didn't see the way they were trembling. He only saw the lusciousness of them. The urge to taste them was overpowering. "I think I'm done talking."

She felt where he was looking, could only imagine what he wanted to do, and shook her head wildly. Recalling that he seemed to like it when she had asked nicely before, she took a deep breath and whispered, her voice shaking from fear, "Please. I want to know. You must be really smart, to have fooled us for so long. Please. Tell me more." Her eyes implored him to go on.

It appeased him, made him more than happy to oblige her, especially when she asked him nicely and politely. "I'll tell you more, my Diana." He held a handful of her soft dark hair in his hands and brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. "Since you used your manners."

Somehow she knew not to move, not to flinch, and not to cringe. It went against her very bearing but Di forced herself to stand perfectly still and not whip her head away from his dreaded touch. "Go on," she invited slowly, unable to get anything else out past her dry lips.

"It seems I had to adapt my plan more than I had ever thought possible. My original plan was to simply break into your house one night and take you with me. I had it all worked out, except for that fancy security system. As much as I hate to admit it, I knew I couldn't beat it. I'm not the most technologically minded fellow in the world, you know, so I needed to do something different." He moved his hand to her shoulder and then up and down her arm. "I like this sweater on you. It's very pretty."

"Than…thank you," she stuttered out.

"I remember the first time I saw it on you. It was the picnic you had at the lake. Last Sunday. I followed you and a few of the others to your clubhouse. It was a lovely day," he noted fondly. "The sweater becomes you nicely."

She was never going to wear it again. When she got out of this predicament, she was going to burn it. "Thanks," she stammered.

"Very nice manners again. I am pleased." He was, dreadfully so. He thought about the hours they had before them and became to anticipate them with an eagerness that was almost painful. "After I saw how easy it was to follow you around, I came up with the idea of stalking you. Again, it was all planned out, down to the last detail, and ready to go. I stocked up on those prepaid cell phones. Of course, I bought them with cash and from many different stores," he put in. Winking at her, he added, "I wouldn't want anyone to trace me or my purchases."

"You are…very smart," Di managed to get out past the rapid rising and falling of her chest. She thought she heard another sound from nearby but couldn't be certain if it was real or a figment of her imagination.

He preened under her praise, not hearing the terror that was driving it, or the suspiciously close noise. "But then that damn girl had to intercept your letter, the letter that was meant for you. I told you already how angry that made me but I controlled my anger. It wasn't too hard for me to change my plans, to adapt, and to make the situation fit my needs."

"So you made it seem like you were after Trixie." Was that another sound? She couldn't be sure. Di kept her frightened eyes on him, all the while dying to look around and see where the noises were coming from.

"It worked out even better than I expected it to. That whole clan of yours circled their wagons around her, protecting her like I knew they would. You were left out in the cold, weren't you, lovely Diana? Not that I'm complaining. I wouldn't have it any other way." He ran a finger along her chin, raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck. "It became a game to me, one I enjoyed more than I thought I would. I searched for clever ways to drive that bitch crazy. I succeeded, too. One of the first was handed to me," he thought back, chuckling on how he had come to possess her hat. It had been a stroke of luck that he had been out on the bluffs the day she had ridden up with that redheaded boy and more proof to him that he was destined to succeed in his endeavor. "I came out on top, too, this time around. She doesn't have a clue who I am or what my intentions are."

Di remembered what Trixie had told her and how Sergeant Molinson had taken out the employee records from the Country Club. "That may be true but Sergeant Molinson…" She gasped when his fingers bit into her upper arm.

His good mood dissipated. "I don't know how he did it but he made the connection between the school and the Country Club. I was taking a break from busing tables in the restaurant this evening when I saw Saunders bring him into his office." His smile fell off his face, to be replaced with an ugly sneer. His eyes narrowed. "He may only be a small-town cop but he'll figure out that I work at both places. They'll want to question me, I know they will. That's why I had to speed things along tonight. I wasn't ready to grab you yet but, like I've already told you, I can adapt."

She gulped and tried to flatter him, willing to say anything to keep him occupied. "You adapted very well."

He perceived it as a compliment. "I cut out of work early. Before I left, I checked the break room. You hadn't left anything in there but I did take out the battery out of your friend's cell phone, just in case. She's already hiding behind a new one, did you know that?" He released a small laugh. It had been surprisingly enjoyable to terrify one Trixie Belden. Then he recalled that he was sharing his change of plans with Diana, who meant more to him than that blonde ever would. "Luck was with me yet again. I was able to put something I had stolen from your locker into play tonight. Your planner came in very handy," he informed her, studying Di's face.

"You took my planner?" she repeated, incredulous.

He gave a curt nod, his eyes gleaming in the thin moonlight. "Yesterday, during the afternoon. I went through your locker during the last period of the day. I grabbed it and studied it last night. It's a good thing, too. I was able to use the information that I needed for tonight." He had a good memory and had been able to recall the name and address of her brother's friend. "It was so simple, really. I knew you wouldn't be able to refuse the request from your mother. You are very close to her."

She saw how simple it had been. He had been able to get her alone, all on the pretense of picking up her brothers, and had used something very personal of hers to do it. "I think the police will come looking for you," she said without thinking.

He didn't take offense. Holding all of the cards helped him feel invincible. Let the police come, he thought to himself. They were useless anyway. "But they won't know where we are, will they?" he asked rhetorically, his face broken by a wide, satisfied smile.

Di saw the intense look in his eyes. The thought of the police didn't scare him. He really believed that he had fooled them all, that he had her right where he wanted her. He wasn't planning on letting her go. He was going to take her with him, wherever it was that he was going. She shook her head, wordlessly denying it, while she searched hysterically for something else to say, anything that would prevent him from taking her away and halt him from the intentions she could plainly read on his face. "It was Trixie," she got out proudly, hoping to distract him. "She's the one who discovered the connection, not Sergeant Molinson. She put the sergeant on the right track this morning. In fact, I'll be that she's putting together a posse right now to come after me. She knows I was going to the Easterlys."

The distraction worked. He wrapped a fist in her shoulder-length hair and pulled. "So, the smart little two-bit snoop figured part of it out. She's too clever for her own good, isn't she? But she still doesn't know who I am and she won't be able to get anyone here in time." His lips curled up derisively. How he hated one Trixie Belden. It was one more thing to lay at her door. He had visualized more than once what it would look like to see her life's blood draining out of her body. It sounded like pure heaven to him. "It's a pity we don't have enough time to pay her a visit."

Done talking, taking advantage of the anger that was now boiling in his veins, he gave Di an unexpected push, sending her sprawling on the ground in front of him. Stunned, she reflexively flipped over onto her back, her chest rising and falling in fright. He stared down at her, at the sight of her spread out before him, and felt his own anticipation getting the better of him. Now seemed just as good a place as any. He slowly covered her body with his, not allowing her any space to move. He had never come close to feeling of excitement that gripped him. Finally, he was going to make her his.

He didn't hear the noise or see the shadow that fell over them. But he did feel the contact of something hard against the side of his head and fell to the ground. Uncertain if she had stunned him or knocked him unconscious, Trixie reached down and grabbed Di's slack hand. "Come on, Di!" she ordered urgently, pulling her friend up and with her. Di leaned into her, hardly seeming to have the strength to stand. Trixie gave her a quick, fortifying hug before saying forcefully, "We've got to get going." She threw a glance back but the horrid man didn't stir from the ground.

Di followed obediently behind although hysteria threatened to overtake her at any moment. Her grip on Trixie's hand was like a lifeline. She held on so tightly that it hurt but Trixie didn't let go, realizing that her friend needed all the support that she could get. Together they ran through the woods, deeper and deeper, and putting as much distance as possible between them and Tilney Britten.

About ten minutes into their run, Di paused and brought a hand to her head. "I think, I think, I think I need a break." She looked at Trixie, tears sparkling in the depths of her eyes. "Trixie, I don't think I can go any further. Please."

Trixie pulled to a stop, breathing heavily, and studying the way they had come. She couldn't see anything but that didn't make her feel any safer. "We can't stop, Di. We've got to keep moving," she whispered fiercely, cupping her ear to see if she could hear anything beyond the whistle of the wind. She watched with concern as her friend rested on a large tree and dropped her head in her hands. Trixie rushed up to her, dropping the tire iron in the process, and knelt down. Gently framing Di's face with her hands, she tilted it up until she could see it. "Oh, your head," she murmured quietly, seeing the dried blood and the purpling bruise on her forehead for the first time. "That must hurt."

"I do have a headache," Di mentioned with a touch of wonder to her voice. She had forgotten about it, plus the car accident. She suddenly started to feel the rest of the aches and pains in her body from the collision. Shivering, she recollected what had started it all. "His car was blocking the road. I turned and hit a tree."

"I saw," Trixie answered with forced ease. Lifting her head, she thought that she heard something far off in the distance but she couldn't be certain. She didn't mention anything to Di. The poor girl had been through enough. She glanced around the woods, wondering frantically what she could do, and saw gentle puffs of smoke rising above a chimney. It looked like it was about a mile, maybe two, away. Decision made, she resolutely slipped out of jacket. "Here, Di, you look cold. My jacket is much warmer than yours." She offered it to Di.

Di didn't think. She let Trixie guide her arms out of her sweater and gratefully put on Trixie's jacket. Her fingers trembled when she zipped it up. "I do feel much warmer," she admitted softly and huddled within the comforts of the jacket.

"I can tell." Trixie buttoned up the sweater and lifted the hood over her head, hiding her blonde curls. She gestured in the direction of the smoke. "You probably don't realize it but we're right on the edge of the preserve. The northern part, I think. You know, the part that kind of winds its way around? I just realized it myself. Do you see that, Di? Where the smoke is coming from? That's Mr. Maypenny's cabin, right over there. I'm not sure why but they've got the fireplace going. Mart's there, as well as the rest of the boys." She eyed Di. "Do you think you can make it there?"

Mart. Oh, she could make it there, she had no doubt about that. Thinking about him made her feel safe and secure. If she could only get to him, she may be able to put the events of this night out of her mind. "Yes, I can." Pushing herself off of the tree, she stood, her legs only wobbling a little.

Trixie caught the wobble, realizing with an inner feeling of dread that there wasn't any way that Di could outrun him, not if he was coming after them. She looked off in the direction they had come from. He was coming, she could feel it. She hadn't hit him hard enough. She had probably only managed to make him angrier. "Listen, Di," she said, forcing her voice to sound easy and calm. "I called the police right after I got here. They should be here any moment." That is, if they didn't think it was a prank, she thought worriedly. "This is what we're going to do." She took a deep breath, prayed that she was making the right choice and willingly stepped into the fire, if it would help Di get away. "We're going to split up, you and I. It's the best idea. I want you to head straight towards the cabin. Take it easy. Go slow. The boys will be waiting for you," she added as an extra incentive. "Mart will be there. He'll take care of you."

Di's mind was too clouded to offer any objections. The thought of the cabin, Mart and the other Bob-Whites was too enticing, a safe ending to the nightmare that still had her within its horrifying grip. But she was much too good of a friend to forget about Trixie. "What…what about you?" she questioned finally, her eyes large and lost.

Trixie pointed in the opposite direction. "I'll head this way. I'm planning on circling around and making it to the cabin after you. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. And don't forget that the police should be here soon," she spoke hurriedly, not wanting to waste any more time or they wouldn't have another option. They would both be caught. "Go, Di. I'll be fine." Trixie helped Di up and pushed her in the safest of the directions. She waited until her friend had started off and bit her lip. She saw Di carefully weave her way through the under bush before she disappeared, going slower than the situation called for. "Di will make it," Trixie said strongly, knowing that she was going to do everything possible to give Di the chance that she needed to get away. "I know she will."

A loud groan of anger from about a hundred yards to her left had her snapping her head up, like a deer who had been caught in the sights of a rifle. She turned and started fleeing in the opposite direction, making as much noise as she possible could so that he would follow her and not Di. The moon slid back behind the clouds, leaving the woods covered once again in darkness, with only the sounds of the decoy and the pursuer breaking the stillness.


	33. Chapter 32

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Thirty-Two

"Don't mind if I do," Mart announced cheerfully as he helped himself to the last piece of pizza. He picked off the meatballs and ate them first before taking a satisfying bite of their delicious dinner, grinning the entire time at the others in the front yard of the cabin.

Brian glanced from his brother to the two empty large pizza boxes on the floor of the porch, shaking his head in wonder at the bottomless pit that masqueraded as his brother. "It looks like I was wrong. I never thought we'd be able to finish off two full pizzas on our own," he said sardonically.

"You should have known better, Brian. I've spent the past year as Mart's roommate. I know what he's capable of," Dan teased, although he was seriously impressed with the fact that Mart was able to finish off seven pieces on his own. He had out-eaten the others. It hadn't even been a contest.

Jim came onto the small front porch, a shop-vac in his hands, and smirked at the sight of Mart with another piece of pizza in his hands. "It's all cleaned up, Dan. I swept up the residue left over from the great flood and our hard work." Sweat shone on his forehead in the dull glow of the outside light. He wiped it off with the back of his hand. "It's also very hot in there. I don't know how you're going to sleep in that cabin tonight." He headed towards his Pathfinder and placed the shop-vac in the back.

Dan shrugged a shoulder. It didn't bother him. "I'll probably camp out on the porch instead." Even though it was a chilly night for May, a fireplace was certainly not needed as a way to warm the cabin. It had been necessary to help dry out the walls and the floor from the stream of water. Dan put his hands behind his neck, and closed his dark eyes. Sleep sounded good. It had been a long and extremely frustrating day. At least the mess was cleaned up and the water problem was fixed. All he had left to do was to dry-wall the wall. That could wait until morning. Painting would come later.

"When is Mr. Maypenny coming back from the wedding?" Brian asked conversationally. He sat down in a vacant chair, a can of soda in his hands, and stifled a yawn. He should be heading home but he was suddenly bone-tired. Even the thought of getting up and walking to the station wagon seemed like a difficult task. So far his time home hadn't been that restful.

"He should be back by ten." Dan chuckled deeply, picturing the older man's reaction to the burst water pipe. Mr. Maypenny was not going to be pleased. "He'll like the huge, gaping hole in the kitchen. It's going to make his day. I'll bet he'll never leave the cabin again. He'll be afraid now more than ever that the whole cabin will implode if he's not around."

"It's a shame the phone line wasn't fixed today," Mart continued, listing another problem with the cabin. "It's a double shame that you don't have any cell phone service here, unless you're willing to climb up on the roof and stand on your head," he added jokingly, mouth full, before finishing the last bite of his pizza. He rubbed his stomach and leaned back in the plastic lawn chair. "Mmm, that was delicious."

"For your seventh piece," Brian quipped, playfully swatting Mart on the head.

Oddly quiet, Jim looked at his watch. Nine-forty-five. It was well after Trixie's work shift. He thought about her, wondering how her shift had gone and imagining that she had made it safely home. He reached for his cell phone, which he normally kept clipped to his jeans, but dropped his hand, forgetting that he had lent it to her. Then he silently echoed Mart's words. It was a shame that the cabin didn't have any phone service. He wanted to hear her voice and also to find out about her day. It had been too long since he had talked to her.

Dan caught his friend's preoccupation; he had a pretty good reason behind it and stifled a laugh with a sharp cough. He doubted if Jim would appreciate it if he teased him, especially with her brothers around, and tamped down on the impulse. "Well, boys," he began, calling an end to the day's festivities, "as much as I have enjoyed your company, for the entire afternoon and evening, I might add, I think it's time that we turn in for night. Let's try and not do it again, okay?"

Brian hooked a thumb towards the cabin. "Spend the whole day fixing a plumbing problem? Making countless trips to the hardware store because we're too inexperienced to get everything we need the first or second or even the third time around? Or how about someone turning the water back on before we're completely finished?" He aimed a sour look at Mart, the culprit. More than one of them had been drenched from that escapade early in the evening and it had set them back a good hour in their endeavor.

Mart smiled sheepishly and held out his hands in supplication. "Sorry," he mumbled lowly, correctly guessing that it would be a long time before any of them let him forget that one.

"I don't have any desire to act as a plumber again, any time soon." Brian gave a long, drawn-out shiver that had Dan laughing.

Mart swallowed the last of his soda. "I find that I must agree with my elder brother. It is about time to mosey on home," he mentioned, standing up and putting his plastic cup in the trash bag. "Besides, aren't we going to see each other again tomorrow evening? For dinner, if my memory serves me right, and it usually does, especially when it involves food. I seem to remember that the females in our midst have deemed Sundays as Bob-White days, or something to that effect."

"You're thinking of food again?" Brian wondered out loud, incredulous. He stared at his brother. "You have got to be kidding me."

"I think that the plan is a cook-out," Dan remarked, idly swinging his leg. "The location has not been announced yet. It is to be determined at a later time."

A loud noise alerted them seconds before Di burst through the woods. She came to a stop when she saw the four of them out front and rubbed her eyes, hoping that it wasn't some kind of a mirage. When they were still there, she sprinted her way towards them, who were staring at her in various states of shock and surprise, and made a bee-line straight for Mart, gasping for breath. It had taken all of her strength and endurance to make it to the cabin. She had dug down deep and had persevered, when all she really had wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep. It may have only been a little over a mile away but it had felt more like a thousand. Her feet ached. Her head ached. She felt like she was going to collapse at any given moment. His beloved face swam before her eyes before she threw herself into his outstretched arms. "Mart!" she called out shrilly, reveling in the shelter that she found in his arms. For the first time in almost an hour she truly believed that she was safe. It almost felt like the past minutes were a distant nightmare and had never happened to her at all.

Mart gathered her closely, for once completely and utterly speechless, looking with concern at the faces of the other Bob-Whites, his own face stark-white and all good humor gone. He stroked her hair, which was disheveled and tangled, and gently tugged out a leaf that had become entwined in it. He murmured soothingly, hoping to calm her down, and studied the leaf, wondering how the hell it had gotten in her hair in the first place, "It's okay, Diana."

She sucked in a breath and drew back, loathing the sound of her full name._ He_ had called her that. It would be a long time before she would let anyone use her full name again. "Don't call me that, Mart," she declared forcefully, shaking her head and trembling from the painful memories. "It's Di."

"Okay, okay," he repeated, willing to do anything to appease her and wipe off the terrified look that had crossed her face. Mouth open, he glanced at the others, completely out of his element. He didn't know what to say or do next. "It's Di," he finally said.

Brian hurried over to them, trying to get a good look at her. It was tough with her head buried in Mart's chest. He only got to see the back of her head. "What happened, Di?" he questioned quietly, in his best doctor tone, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

She lifted her head and wiped away a few tears that had spilled down her face. Her voice was thin and strained. Brushing back a strand of her hair, she explained as coherently as she could, her voice shaking with the effort, "I hit a tree."

Brian immediately sprang into action. Gentle fingers tilted her head up. He saw the bruising and the dried blood, the size of the knot on her forehead, as well as the dilation of her pupils. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead. It was hard to tell from the gloomy glow of the one outside light but her face appeared to be pale and waxen. Her breathing was fast and erratic, either as a result from her run through the woods or from the car accident, he couldn't be quite sure. He didn't need to have an M.D. after his name to know that she was in shock. "I think it would be a good idea if you would sit down, Di," he suggested carefully.

She gave a vehement shake of her head. "No, no, I can't." She had to tell them about Trixie. She opened her mouth to do just that but got sidetracked by Mart, who grabbed her hand. She allowed him to lead her to his vacated chair. Her knees gave out while he helped her take her seat. She would have fallen if he hadn't been there to support her. She kept a vice-like grip on his hand, needing his strength now that her ordeal was over and her body was begging to quit.

"Where did you hit a tree?" Jim's voice was quiet and even, exactly what she needed to help tell her story. He and Dan had joined the group, staying back a few feet to give the three some room. He hooked his thumbs into the loops on his jeans, his eyes dark and intense, while he waited for Di's answer.

Di flexed her hand reflexively within Mart's strong grip. She couldn't believe she was with him. It seemed inconceivable to her. She didn't look at Jim. She only had eyes for Mart. "On Trey Road," she whispered, shivering at the memory. It was all becoming a blur to her. She never wanted to drive on that road again.

Four pairs of puzzled eyes met above her head, all with the same questions circling through their minds. Why was she on Trey Road? Why would she have walked all the way to the cabin for help? It was at least a mile, if not more, away. The only way she could have made it was going through the preserve. Brian stared at the point in the woods where she had come through. It didn't make any sense to him. He tried to hide his bewilderment behind a gentle smile. "You were in a car accident on Trey Road," he restated calmly, hoping to help prompt her into sharing more with them.

Di took a deep breath. She hated to relive it, to remember any part of it. Her skin started to crawl and she shrank back into herself. "It was kind of like what happened to Janie…not Janie. Juliana," she corrected herself with a small laugh as fragile as the thinnest of glass. "You remember, right, Jim?" She glanced at him hopefully.

Jim's eyebrows drew together. His cousin's car accident had not been an accident. It had been intentional, frighteningly so, and caused by the one person he hated the most in the world. "She had her car accident when my stepfather surprised her. He was standing in the middle of the road and she swerved to avoid him. She hit a tree instead," he recited stoically.

"Mine was like that, too." Di bit her lip, trying to control the shivers coursing through her body. One hand balled up into a fist. Her nails dug so hard into her palm that she nearly punctured her skin. "But it was a car instead. There was a car parked in the road. It was sideways and it took up the entire road. There was no way I could have avoided it. I only had a few seconds to react before I would have hit it so I turned the steering wheel hard and ended up driving into a tree instead."

Mart ran a soothing hand down her back. It didn't sound like a simple car accident, if there was such a thing. No, it sounded deliberate. It scared him. "You swerved to miss hitting the car," he repeated.

"Yes. That's when I hit the tree." She felt like her voice was coming from somewhere far away. She spoke her next words with deliberate slowness and rendered them speechless. "Then I ran into the woods. He followed me."

The terror that bit into him had great big fangs and wouldn't let go. He didn't want to know the answer. He knew he didn't but he asked the question anyway. "Who followed you, Di?" Mart knelt down beside her, taking both her hands in his. He noted how cold and clammy her hands felt and started to rub them, hoping to bring some warmth to them.

She stared at their hands, drawing strength from it. She was out of danger. She was safe. Part of her hadn't believed it, not until she had felt his hands in hers. It still took a superhuman effort to even say the hated man's name. She could still feel where he had touched her, almost as if the memory was as tangible as the touch. "Tilney Britten."

Dan was the only who wasn't immediately familiar with the name. He had joined the group a few months later and hadn't been involved in that particular adventure. Judging from the gasps and angry glares coming from the other three, it wasn't a good thing. "Who is that?" he barked out forcefully, needing to be clued in.

"Di's fake Uncle Monty," Brian muttered lowly. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, picturing the man in his mind. Small, mean-spirited, with a temper that was easily lit. And a penchant for weapons. He remembered how he had held his sister at gunpoint and attempted to kidnap her in the trailer, with Mart unwittingly going along for the ride. He wasn't harmless, although his stature would have suggested so. He was dangerous.

It all came together for him. "Damn." Dan was familiar with the story, as well as the fact that the man had more than enough reason to despise all of the Bob-Whites.

Di started to kick the ground. It was hard, harder than she thought, to tell the rest, even to people that cared for her deeply. Sucking a deep breath, she admitted, staring at the ground, "He…he is the stalker. All this time. It was him. He wasn't after Trixie; not really. That was all a mistake. He mixed up our backpacks. He used the mistake to his advantage." She brought her face up and looked at Mart through haunted eyes. "He wanted me."

"Oh, good Lord," Mart breathed out, needing to hear more but unable to ask. Di looked so tired, as if a good, strong wind would blow her down. There would be time later to fill in the gaping holes.

For the first time since she had joined them, Jim got a good look at her jacket and felt his world tilt to the side. A Sleepyside Country Club jacket with a name that started with a 'T' embroidered on it. It could only belong to one person. "Di," he bit out more sharply than he had intended and pointed at her. "Why are you wearing Trixie's jacket?"

"That's right." Di looked down, having forgotten all about it. Her mind was swirling with so many different thoughts and emotions it was difficult for her to stay on track. The fact that her head was pounding like a freight train didn't help matters, either. She traced the letters, remembering why she was wearing the jacket."Trixie gave it to me when I met her in the woods. We switched. She said that her jacket was much warmer than my sweater."

Silence; pure, stunned silence. Jim swore that he actually stopped breathing. He turned his frightened gaze in the direction that Di had come from, all the while trying to convince himself that what he was thinking couldn't possibly be true. She couldn't be out there. She simply couldn't be. But she was out there. Alone. With a crazed man after her. And if she was wearing Di's sweater…he couldn't finish the thought.

"Where is Trixie now?" Brian asked as evenly as he could. She should be home, at Crabapple Farm, getting ready to turn in for the night. It was almost ten o'clock. He had the same suspicions as Jim.

"He pushed me to the ground and then…" She couldn't voice what he had attempted then. "Trixie came up from behind us and knocked him out. I'm not sure what she used. Maybe a stick. I don't know. I'm sorry." Di dropped her head into her hands. The pounding in her head was dreadful. She wasn't sure if it would be better for her to cry or go to sleep. "So much happened and my head hurts. It's hard to remember right now." She stopped talking. Tears glinted off of her dark lashes.

It took a minute for her to compose herself. Mentally and emotionally exhausted, Di didn't have the capability to comprehend the shocked expressions around her. She somehow found the courage to go on, to tell her story. "We ran away from him but he started following us. I'm not sure how long we ran. I needed a break so we stopped. That's when we switched our coats. She…she pointed the cabin out to me. She told me to follow the smoke. Then Trixie said that she would go in a different direction; that she would circle back and…meet…me…here." Di's voice went softer and softer and slower and slower. She left the rest unsaid as horror dawned on her. Covering her hands with her cheeks, her lagging senses finally realized what Trixie had done, how she had sacrificed her own safety to get Di out. "Oh, dear God, no!" she breathed out, horrified, her face turning a ghostly white.

He didn't need to hear anymore. Dan turned on his heel and sprinted into the cabin. The door banged shut behind him. He was back within a minute with the keys to his truck in his hands and a rifle. Checking the rifle to see if it was loaded, he offered it to Mart. "Stay here with Di," he ordered gruffly. "She needs you and we need someone to stay here. Trixie may make it here before we can find her. Keep this in case you need it."

Di came out of the chair. Mart held her hand. Her sobs were ragged and deep, tearing at his soul. Torn, he wanted to go in search of his sister but he knew without a doubt that he was the best choice to stay with Di. She needed him. "Take care of that bastard," he spit out, his mouth set in a line of grim determination. He reached for the rifle.

Di was left to stand, unsupported, when Mart went to reach for the rifle. Her knees buckled from the exertion. Brian was there to catch her before she tumbled to the ground in a heap. The doctor in him couldn't let Di go untreated. She needed to get to the hospital but they would have to settle for the next best thing until the situation was resolved. Sighing, he gave up the urge to go out immediately and search for Trixie. He would join them once he saw to Di's hurts. "Come inside with me, Di. I want to check you over before I leave." He gave a nod to Jim and Dan, who understood his position. "I'll follow along in a few minutes."

Dan cast a side-long look at Jim. His friend's face was white with fright but the eyes…they were the most piercing he had ever seen them. Almost deadly. "I think it'll be quicker if we drive. We'll drive to Trey Road and start at the exact spot," he decided suddenly, head down. He rushed to his truck, Jim only a step behind. Firing it up, he backed up and traveled down the dirt road, kicking up a pile of dust in wake, and going faster than the state of the road allowed for.

Jim looked straight ahead. He tried not to contemplate what could be happening to Trixie. He tried to focus on the positives. She was smart. She was savvy. She was brave. She had beaten the bastard before. She could do it again. He believed in her. But his heart wouldn't stop racing and his own breathing was coming out in uneven, rasping breaths. He could never remember being so scared. He concentrated on the events of the past week, remembering everything that had happened, from her fall when they were out riding to her latest text message. Staring down at his hands, flexing and unflexing his fingers, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he could kill, if the situation warranted it.

Dan's cell phone rang the second they hit Glen Road. He answered it with one hand, keeping a sharp eye on the road and drove quickly, knowing that each second that went past was one more terrifying moment for Trixie, alone, out in the woods with a madman after her. "What?" he barked harshly into the phone.

Honey didn't take offense. She was too grateful to finally get in touch with someone. "Dan!" she cried out, sagging against the wall in relief. "Thank goodness one of you is finally answering your phone. I've been calling you, Brian, Mart, Di and Jim…well, I guess I mean Trixie, since she has his phone, for the past half hour." She blew out a small breath. "I've been avoiding calls from Trixie's mom because I don't know what to tell her."

"Honey," Dan said, sliding a glance at Jim so he would know who was on the other end. "We're on our way…"

"To Trey Road!" Honey finished for him. She jangled the car keys in her hand and jumped to the wrong conclusion. "You must have received a message from Trixie, too. I'm just about frantic here." Honey took a deep breath to calm herself. She was blathering on but she couldn't seem to stop herself. "Trixie should have been here about forty minutes ago. She was supposed to come to my house instead of going home, since no one is there. I'm so scared, Dan. She said that Di is in trouble and she went to help her. I know she did but I haven't heard from either of them. It's been too long." The minutes kept ticking by, with no answer in sight for her, and making her more terrified by the second.

"Di will be fine," Dan informed her quickly. "She made it to the cabin about ten minutes ago. Brian's checking her out now at the cabin. I don't doubt that she'll need to be taken to the hospital, however, once everything is over. She looked pretty banged up."

"To the hospital? Why does she need to go to the hospital?" Honey shrieked out, more confused than relieved. Then the rest of what he said slammed into her with the force of a tornado. "And what do you mean, 'when everything is over'? What the hell is going on, Daniel Mangan?"

Dan didn't want to get into it. Time was their enemy. But Honey was swearing, something he had never heard her do before, so he relented and offered, "She was in a car accident on Trey Road. She drove into a tree."

She closed her eyes and took in the information. "All right, all right. Di was in a car accident but she's safe, with Mart and Brian, at Mr. Maypenny's cabin. You and Jim are on your way to Trey Road. I've got that much." Honey thought about it. She took a series of deep breaths that didn't calm her in the least. Her voice was still tinged with hysteria. "Dan, that doesn't explain anything about Trixie. _Where is she_?" she demanded fiercely. There was more to it. She could almost touch it; it was that tangible.

"We don't know," he replied grimly, keeping Jim within his sights. He saw how his friend flinched. "We don't know where Trixie is."

"You don't…know?" It ended up being a question and spurred her into action. Honey slammed the front door behind her, scared to death for her friend, and sprinted towards her mother's car. She was getting to Trey Road as soon as she could. "How could you not know? Didn't Di see her?"

"What about the police?" Dan inquired, intentionally ignoring Honey's valid questions. "We're going to need their help during our search. She's out in the woods somewhere." He didn't add that the stalker was after her. "Have they been called?"

"Yeah. I checked in with them a few minutes ago." Honey reached her mother's car and ripped open the door. With shaking fingers she slammed the key into the ignition and backed up. She didn't look behind her but drove on blind instinct. "The dispatcher blew off the first call for help on Trey Road. It was from Trixie, of course. Sergeant Molinson was extremely angry. I've never heard him like that before. I could hear him yelling in the background." She looked at the numbers on her clock. Two minutes after ten. "The police should be there within a few minutes."

He mouthed "no police" over to Jim, who looked more furious than he had before. Trixie was alone, would be alone until the two of them got there. Dan bit out the inventive string of curses that he had learned from Sergeant Molinson. "We're not going to wait for the police. We're going after her," he informed Honey fiercely and hung up the phone before she could say anything else. "She's on her way, too," he informed Jim. "She'll probably get there about the time Brian and the police do."

Jim ignored him. He saw the turn-off to Trey Road approaching. They had made it there in record time. "Slow down, Dan," he advised curtly, even though it went against his instincts. They needed to be cautious and methodical if they wanted to find Trixie before Britten did. As much as he wanted to give in to his darker emotions, he couldn't. It wouldn't help the situation. "We don't want to miss anything."

Dan obediently cut the speed in half. He carefully took the corner and turned onto the quiet country lane, carefully examining each part of the road and the woods as they passed it. Nothing, not a damn thing, until they mounted the top of a crest. "Look, Jim!" he pointed out excitedly.

Jim undid his seatbelt. His fingers gripped the door handle so tightly his knuckles turned white. "It's Mrs. Belden's van," he noted grimly, refusing to give in to the fear that was threatening to grip him. "Trixie is here."

Dan pulled up even further. He saw the unknown brown car and parked up behind it, blocking it in. If the owner came back, he wouldn't be able to get out, not without ramming into the pick-up truck. Reaching across, he grabbed Jim's elbow and stopped him from leaving the truck. "Here, Jim. Take this, in case we should need it."

Jim looked at the small pistol Dan was offering him. It was a Berretta, deadly and dangerous. He accepted it, as if mesmerized, and imagined what he could do to that bastard with it. Something dark within him made him smile."Where did you get these?"

Dan jumped out of his truck, tucking his preferred Glock into the waistband of his jeans. "I've been collecting them for awhile. I need to know how to shoot more than just a rifle for the police academy," he explained briefly.

Jim felt the sleekness of the weapon. He turned it over, contemplated it, and then nodded his head. When he looked back at Dan, they both had the same expression in their eyes. Ruthless. They made a silent pact to do whatever was necessary to protect Trixie, to get her out of this predicament as safely as they could. "Let's go." Jim turned and led the way past Di's father's car and down the embankment.

Dan followed behind. When his feet slipped out from underneath him, he grabbed a tree branch to right himself. "How do we know which direction to go in?" he questioned when they reached the bottom.

Jim bit back a curse. They didn't have a clue. "I'll take the east side. You take the west." The cabin was to the west. He had a strong feeling that Trixie had taken the man in the opposite direction of the cabin. He knew her too well. There was no way she would lead Britten towards Di and the others at the cabin. She simply wouldn't do it, not if it meant that she would place them in danger. She would face it head-on, all by herself.

"Dammit," Dan swore out viciously, frustrated with himself. He had grabbed the guns but he had forgotten a vital piece of equipment. "I forgot to bring the walkie-talkies. How the hell are we going to get in touch with each other?" The night was unyielding, without even the hint of the moon to light their way.

"Whistle," Jim answered back shortly. "If we see anything, let's whistle."

Dan didn't respond. It sounded good to him. He headed towards the east, wishing that the moon would come out. It was almost too dark to see. A flashlight would have been useful but he had specifically chosen not to take those from the cabin. It would have given away their positions. It was best to stay on the same playing field as Britten.

Jim moved stealthily through the under bush, pushing aside branches as quietly as he could, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the soft leaves on the ground. He kept his steps light and quick, like his father had taught him to do years before when he was learning how to hunt. His heart was pounding out a frantic beat. He had never been more terrified in his entire life. If his math was correct, Trixie had been in the woods for at least twenty minutes, possibly more. What could be happening to her? He didn't want to finish that thought and trudged on through the dark.


	34. Chapter 33

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Thirty-Three

Breathing hard, Trixie stopped running and gingerly stepped over a fallen tree that blocked her path. She had lost track of the time and had absolutely no idea how long she had been traipsing through the woods. The one thing she knew was that she had been successful in her venture. She had fooled him. He was after her, not Di. Di should have had plenty of time to make it to the cabin, as long as she had held up physically, and hadn't collapsed somewhere along the way. Trixie hoped that she had made it, wouldn't allow herself to think anything differently. If Di had made it, then that meant she would be taken care of and that help would be along. All she had to was keep moving and keep out of his sights.

Pausing in the deep shadows of three large fir trees, she cocked her ear and listened. Nothing. She couldn't hear a blessed thing. Unsure if that was a good thing, she whirled about, glanced off in the distance, and took the time to attempt to figure out where exactly she was. But there weren't any familiar landmarks. Even if there were, she doubted if she could have recognized them. It was too damn dark.

Thinking hard, she tried to figure out what to do next. Running was making her tired, draining her supply of strength and energy, and may not have been the most useful thing to do, especially when she didn't have a clear destination in mind. She stared in the direction Di had gone, seeing the puffs of smoke rising gently into the sky. As much as she wanted to move in that direction, the cabin was off-limits. There was no way on earth that she was going to lead that horrid man to her family and friends, even if it meant possible safety for her.

She twisted around, studied the opposite way. It was dark, with only the thinnest light from the moon available. If she went that way, there was the chance she could make it back to the road. If she made it back to the road, she could make it to her car. She felt the keys in her front pocket. Maybe the police would even be there. If Di had made it to the cabin, there was a good chance that some of the boys would be there, too, maybe even the police. If, if, if. So many if's. Trixie bit her bottom lip. She didn't have an ounce of luck left to her, that much was obvious. The odds seemed to be heavily stacked against her.

Pitifully thankful to have a plan, no matter how flimsy it was, she turned and stealthily moved towards what she hoped was the road and possible salvation. She had to trust that there was some form of help there. It was the only way she could make it through. She kept to the shadows, her steps careful and light, and focused hard on keeping her breathing low and even, to try and make as little noise as possible. She didn't want to give away her position.

A loud crack from nearby had her halting in her steps. Heart in her throat, Trixie stopped, her eyes wide and frightened. She almost laughed when she saw the curious animal stop and stand on his hind legs. The fat raccoon's eyes glowed in the light. They stared at each other for a long moment. Deciding she wasn't a threat, he turned and scurried off in search for his dinner. Trixie leaned against a tree, her hand over her mouth, almost finding it hysterically funny that a small forest creature could have frightened her so much.

Then she pushed herself off and slowly started her trek through the woods again. Pulling the hood tighter over her head, she continued on, her ears tuned in to the sounds of the woods, and wishing she had paid more attention when Jim had tried to show her how to survive in the woods, so many years ago. Surprisingly enough, she hadn't been the best of students, had been more interested in spending time alone with Jim than in listening to his words of wisdom. She would give just about anything to go back and relive those lessons.

Lost in thought, she wasn't paying close enough attention to her surroundings. A young, slim branch slapped her in the face. It stung, made her eyes tear. She let out a small 'whoosh' before she could stop herself. Immediately concerned, she halted again and studied the area. Still dark, still quiet. She slowly continued on, even more aware of the dark around her, only to have the bottom of Di's sweater get caught in a series of brambles. Wasting precious seconds, she tugged at it. It didn't come loose on the first or the second tug. Swearing in her mind, she gave it one hard, final tug. It worked but she pulled too hard and stumbled back into the bushes. She fell, snapping a set of twigs in the process.

The sound was as loud as a gunshot, reverberated around the glade she found herself in, and served as a better guide to find her than a large, flashing neon arrow would have. Loud and insistent footsteps were pounding through the forest and coming her way before she had pushed herself up. They sounded too close for her comfort. "Damn it," she bit out and was off like a shot, not even attempting to move quietly. Speed was what she needed now.

But she wasn't fast enough. Her endurance had been nearly spent and her leg muscles were screaming in protest. She moved as quickly as she could. A hand reached out from behind a tree, caught her knee as she ran passed, and she was falling flat on her face before she could stop herself. She had a second to put her hands out in front and to turn her face to the side, the only protection she was able to give herself, before colliding with the hard, unyielding earth, her hands trapped beneath her. She lay on the ground, the wind knocked out of her, and a terrible feeling of dread coming over her.

The rough ground cutting into her cheek didn't register. She wanted to push herself up but she stayed perfectly still. Focusing on her breathing, she saw the sneakers first. New Balance and gray. They moved closer to her and nudged her on the side. She closed her eyes, preparing her body for a kick that luckily didn't come. She had forgotten that he thought that she was someone else, someone much dearer to him, and someone he wasn't prepared to hurt. Yet.

"That wasn't very smart of you, Diana," he informed her coolly. He felt the wound on the side of his head, saw the blood on his fingers, and wiped it on sweatshirt. He forgot about the person who had hit him, too satisfied with catching the one that he wanted above all else. He would see that she paid in spades for the wound, as well as the escape attempt. "It seems that you owe me more than I thought. Running away from me wasn't the way to go, my dear. You should be happy I caught you now, when I still have an ounce of good humor left in me."

She remembered. Oh, God, did she remember. He thought she was Di. He wasn't going to be happy when he discovered who she was, Trixie realized frantically. She searched quietly for something, anything, that could be considered a weapon. All she found was the weakest weapon of all: a handful of dirt. She wrapped her right hand around it and brought it towards her chest, hoping for a chance to throw it in his eyes.

"You're not so talkative now, are you, lovely Diana?" He crouched down beside her and placed a strong hand on her back, enjoying the texture of the sweater, and the feel of her underneath his touch. He didn't realize that she had lost a few inches of height during the run or that her shoes were now sensible loafers instead of fancier ones with short heels. All he focused on was the intense satisfaction he felt at having her back, under his control. "I do believe I will need to spend more time teaching you some manners. They are not quite as nice as I expected, especially coming from a millionaire's daughter."

Trixie knew how Di had felt now. Terror, absolute terror. Blinding and awful. She held her breath as his hand traveled up her back and towards the hood. It was like time stopped, in an extremely bad way. She waited, breathless, while she felt his hand on the top of her head, slowly caressing it through the material of the hood, and mentally readied herself for his reaction. It was going to be ugly.

He wanted to see the black hair that drove him crazy, to touch it and to tease it, and then to see the beautiful face that he saw every time he closed his eyes. His hand trembled in dark delight as he slowly pulled the hood back. Then he was quiet, much too quiet before a low, awful, tormented scream fell from his lips when he saw the shorter blonde curls tumble out instead of the longer dark tresses he had expected to see. "No!" His lips curled in utter distaste. He dropped his hand like touching her had burned him.

Using his distraction to her advantage, Trixie pushed herself up, the small mound of dirt still clutched in her hand and scrambled a few feet away, gaining some much-needed distance from the monster. She didn't even feel the multitude of scratches on the side of her face. Crouching down, she looked at him, saw him face-to-face for the first time, and was blown away. She wouldn't have recognized him, not in the halls of the high school or the Country Club. He looked so different and yet…eerily the same. She would never had made the connection, not without knowing his true identity first.

He stared back at her out of his cold blue eyes. They held the silent tableau for an endless series of minutes, each contemplating the other. The rage within was threatening to explode out of him. He couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. This girl, this horrible, annoying bitch of a girl in place of his lovely, refined Diana? He couldn't comprehend it, didn't want to admit it, as his carefully laid plans crashed down around him. "How the hell did you get here?" he snarled, an ugly sneer twisting its way across his mouth. "Where is my Diana?"

Trixie didn't know where it came from but she grinned at him, a low, satisfied grin, and slowly stood up. Antagonizing him probably wasn't the best course of action but she would be damned before she showed him the fear that was bubbling within her. "She's well out of your reach now. She's safe." She tossed her head, stared down her nose at him, and felt immensely proud that she had helped Di escape his clutches. "You won't be able to get to Di."

"Diana," he choked out heatedly, hearing nothing but the nickname, despising the sound of such a common name coming falling from her lips. Diana was a name fit for royalty, not the paltry Di. He only thought of her as Diana. "Her name is Diana," he insisted fiercely. His eyes narrowed into thin slits of icy blue. Completely soulless, completely heartless, and completely furious. He practically spat the next words at her. "You have no right to even say her name. Get it right if you are going to do it."

She drew back and declared with haughty defiance, intentionally stressing her friend's name, "I've known _Di _longer than you ever will. _Di_ is one of my best friends. I'll call her what I want to. _Di _is safe, somewhere where you can't get to her." She took a deep breath and added, praying that she was right, and turning the figurative knife a little further into him, "_Di _is with my brother right now." It was her turn to give him a satisfied smile. Whatever happened to her, at least she had the pleasure of knowing that he wouldn't be able to attain his ultimate prize.

The back of his hand made contact with her face before he even knew his intention or she had time to block it. It made a sickening sound, hand against bone, and rocked through the glade. It threw her back against the ground. He stared down at her, lying prostrate at his feet, and felt immensely pleased with himself. He wouldn't be able to settle the lust that burned through him for his Diana but he would see to it that he found an outlet for the hatred that poured through him like liquid fire for the girl that was sprawled inelegantly before him. She would pay dearly for her interference.

The shock wore off quickly, to be replaced by a deep and throbbing pain. It traveled along the entire length of her cheek. A bit of blood pooled in her mouth. She spit it out and ran an unsteady hand through her tangled curls. She had never been struck before. Ever. In all her adventures, through all of the criminals she had ever helped capture, she had never been hit. Tied up, pushed around, verbally threatened, kidnapped, thrown into the Hudson in a car, but never actually touched in such a vicious manner. Hands flat on the ground, staring at his sneakers again, she decided that it may not have been the best course to antagonize him. She slowly drew her legs up and pulled herself to a standing position, surprised that he actually let her stand, a hand gently covering the bruise on her cheek.

"I am not pleased with the events of the night," he said, almost as if he was talking to himself. Pacing back and forth in front of her, he shook his head, vehemently denying what had happened. "This can't be right. It can't be. I wanted Diana. I had Diana. Then you came along." He whirled on her, studied her, and then flashed her a malevolent grin. "But I'll settle for you, Trixie Belden. I don't have much of a choice, do I? I've fantasized many nights about what I would like to do with you. They may not be as satisfying as my fantasies for Diana but they will do. They will have to. I'll see to it." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a black case.

She watched, fascinated, when he pulled out the knife. It gleamed in the weak moonlight. Astonished, she couldn't take her eyes off of it. It felt surreal, like she had stepped into a bad horror movie. They seemed to be the only two people in the entire world. She even stopped breathing for seconds on end, her gaze on the sharp, sharp knife, and her face starkly white against the dark of the night. She moved her head from side to side, scared and frozen to the ground.

"Not so cocky now, are we?" he murmured softly, enjoying her reaction. It played across her face in a way that he found delightful and tantalizing. He held the knife up like it was the most valuable thing in the world. "Give me that sweater. It's not yours. It belongs to my Diana. I want it."

She would do just about anything he asked her to, within reason, as long as he held the sharp instrument of death in his hands. Sliding first one arm and then the other out of the sweater, she tossed it at him, refusing to come any closer to hand it off.

He caught it with his free hand and brought it to his nose. Inhaling deeply, he breathed in Diana's sweet perfume. "Hmm, it smells like her," he mumbled to himself, finding the smell extremely pleasurable. "Sweet, pure and untouched."

Trixie watched him with frightened eyes while she started to shake from the coolness of the night. She wouldn't be able to reason with him. It was going to be fight or flight, with the strongest or the swiftest coming out on top. She didn't have a chance with the fight. He was stronger. It would have to be flight, for her to have a single chance. Biting her lip, she stared at him, her fingers beating out a nervous tattoo against the side of her legs. She would have to be prepared to run.

He carefully folded up the sweater and placed it at his feet. "I enjoyed cutting your brother's tires," he shared suddenly, running a finger along the side of the blade, his face a portrait of pure evil. "At the time I imagined it was his flesh my blade was cutting into instead of the rubber of the tires. It made my work go by much quicker. It was an amazing way to get back at him for daring to kiss my Diana. "

Although it galled her to do so, she choked back the smart reply that rose to her lips. Her eyes stayed on the knife, mesmerized by its chilling beauty. She had seen the results of his handiwork. It had been rage that had driven him, exactly as she had suspected. She only hadn't had the correct reason. "How…why…we couldn't figure out how you did that. Would you care to tell me?" she forced a plaintive note to her voice, trying a new tactic. If it would buy her more time and the slim chance of an escape, she would try it.

"Sheer luck. I happened to be passing by the little country store when I saw the two of you go in." He gave a small chuckle at the memory. How he had enjoyed it. It had been nearly as good as what he imagined slicing into her brother would have been like. His only regret was that he hadn't been able to stay behind and watch their reactions. He was sure it would have been priceless. "I had to work fast. I knew it wouldn't take you two long to shop in that rinky-dink store run by that old goat. Luckily I had my anger to drive me. I had it completed and was on my way down the road before you came back out. No one saw me. Again." The emotional high from the success of his escapade had stayed with him for an entire day. It had been extremely satisfying.

Licking her dry lips, she offered in what she thought was a congratulatory tone, "You…you were good. We never suspected you. You were an excellent stalker." She did her best to keep her voice from shaking and watched him draw himself up under her praise, preening at her words. "What about my hat? How did you manage to get it?" Her fists were in tight balls at her side. She watched him closely, waiting for him to give her a way out. She would take it, without hesitating.

He had taken it as another sign that he was meant to succeed in his plans. Rubbing his chin, he shared with tainted benevolence, "I love going to the bluffs. It is very peaceful there. In fact, I called you a few times from there, as well as sent many of your texts, too. Inspiration always came to me when I sat there and looked over the Hudson. It was my home base, the only place where I could be myself and let my thoughts wander. I went there to think, especially when it became necessary to alter my plans." The river was a magnificent thing of beauty. Looking out over the river, with its dark and deep swirling waters that never failed to stop but always kept moving, had calmed him and served as a source of motivation for him, helping him to plan out his course of action. It never failed him, always assisted him, and was the one place that served as his salvation.

The fear crawled up and over her, leaving little tentacles of terror shooting throughout her body, making her shiver in response. He was so damn scary. And his eyes…she doubted if she would ever forget them. It was like looking into the eyes of a monster, one who had absolutely no compassion or care in him. He did not possess a soul. It would have made him human. He really would do whatever he deemed was necessary to take care of her. She vaguely remembered how scared she had been the night he had caught her in the trailer. It was nothing compared to how she felt tonight. And Mart wasn't around to help her out. No one was. There was no guarantee that anyone would come to her rescue. She was on her own. "I've always liked the bluffs, too," Trixie replied, trying to be agreeable and force him into more confidences, not that she cared about piecing together the pieces of this particular puzzle.

His smile was swift and feral. "Think how I felt when you and that redheaded boyfriend of yours came riding up last week." When she didn't respond, he filled it in for. "There I was, sitting on the exact rock you ended up on, looking out over the exact same water, and planning my next move. I had enough time to hide before you came into view. It was an amazing coup for me, a sure sign from above that I was meant to win and you and that damn club of yours were meant to lose." It had been a delicious moment for him, one that he had treasured. "I thought to myself when I saw the two of you there, why not? Why the hell not? I seized the opportunity that came my way." The memory was as darkly enjoyable and tantalizing to him as if it had just happened. "When you two were snuggling together on the bluffs, I went back to my car and got a small tack that I had found at the high school. It was easy to stick it under the saddle of your horse. She only whinnied once. Neither of you even noticed. The hardest part was trying not to laugh when she threw you off." He had watched from a safe distance. It had been a sweet retribution for all the pain and trouble she had caused him. "My only source of remorse? I thought it was too bad that your head didn't land on that rock instead of the ground."

He had been there, the entire time. He had caused her fall. Two hours ago she would have cared. Now, she didn't give it a second thought. For once it didn't matter to her if she knew all the ins and outs of a mystery. She simply wanted out. She wanted home. She wanted her family and her friends."You took my hat after we left," Trixie said evenly after valiantly searching for something else to keep him occupied.

"You always were a smart one, much to my chagrin." He put a hand on his hip and gestured towards her with his knife. "You figured out that I was an imposter pretty quickly, much quicker than those stupid Lynches. I was able to trick them but I couldn't fool you."

She didn't want to anger him. Her cheek still hurt from the last time. She didn't want to go through something like that again, not when he was armed. "I don't think I'm all that smart," she admitted in a deceptively soft voice. "If I were, I wouldn't be here, would I?"

He answered the question with a curt nod. "Too smart for your own good, then. We'll leave it at that."

She nodded her head dumbly, agreeing with him, and ignoring the throbbing. "It certainly looks like you were right," she responded, hoping to pacify him more. "You are much smarter than I am, than we all are. You have to be the cleverest one of us all."

Startled, he brought his hand down and cocked his head to the side. The urge to see her blood wasn't quite as strong now. It would happen, he would make sure of that, but, if she was going to be amenable, he wasn't above sharing the success of his scheme with her. He liked it. She was stroking his ego, making him feel even more successful and powerful and invincible. "I did trick you this time, you and that whole meddling outfit of yours."

She nodded again, doing her best to look him in the face and not stare at the sharp knife at his side. Her chest rose and fell while she forced the next words out, "How did you manage to do it all? We didn't have a clue in the world that it was you. We also didn't know that I was the decoy." She caught herself before adding, 'and that Di was the target.' She didn't want to upset him with the mention of Di's name. He was oddly calm and she didn't want to ruin it.

He took a small step towards her. She held her ground although her first instinct was to flee. "It was surprisingly easy," he murmured lowly. "I put the letter in your backpack by mistake. I cashed in on my mistake, made certain everyone thought that you were the victim. Everyone tried to protect you, like I knew they would. They brought you within their circle but it didn't last, did it?" His laugh had an edge to it that spoke of the madness within him. "They didn't succeed, not in the end. There's no one here to protect you now. It's just you, me, and my old trusty knife here." He brandished the knife, swiped it through the air, and made her jump. "I'm going to win. I'm going to succeed."

It was on the tip of her tongue to snap back that he hadn't succeeded, not in his true endeavor. But she didn't. Her cheek hurt too much and he was armed with a knife that had made quick work of tough rubber. She wasn't stupid. "No. You really were too smart for all of us."

He was quiet, too quiet, remembering the past few hours and how his carefully laid plans had been dashed. Diana's words came back at him. She had told him that Trixie was the one responsible for pointing the sergeant to the employee records at the high school and the Country Club. She was the reason why his final plans had to be altered, why his Diana had escaped, and why he was in the lonely, dark woods. With her. His good humor faded as swiftly as a smoke ring in the dark and his hand gripped the handle of the knife tightly, so tightly that his knuckles turned white from the exertion.

She saw the change in his demeanor immediately. It came over him so quickly she almost didn't have time to blink. She wasn't going to be able to deter him with false words of flattery, not anymore. The rage had a stranglehold on him, one that she was not going to be able to break. She had to concentrate on keeping herself out of the knife's way. Her body stiffened, preparing for the onslaught that she could almost feel coming her way.

"You!" he snarled out, his face an ugly mask of hatred, disgust and something so dark that she couldn't decipher it. "It was you! It was you that set the police in the right direction. It was you that made me change my plans again. And it was you that chased my lovely Diana away, to that bastard of a brother of yours. How dare you? How dare you mess up my plans?"

She stepped back when he took a menacing step forward, her eyes the largest they had ever been. "Stay…stay back," she managed to choke out past the knot of fear that threatened to suffocate her. "Don't come near me."

He gave a laugh that made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "My dear, you are not in any type of a position to order me about." He looked her up and down. She was weak. She was small. And she was going down. He could see it all. Her death was going to be as long and drawn out as he could make it. And painful. It would have to be painful. He wanted to see those blue eyes of hers begging for mercy, to see her body writhing for that final peace on the ground, and to hear her gasping for her last breath while her blood pooled around her. It would be magnificent. It was time. He was done fooling around with her. Releasing a growl that didn't sound human, he made his move.

She only had one shot. Surprise was her only weapon. Forcing her feet to stay planted, Trixie waited until he was only inches away but didn't get a chance to defend herself. He moved in faster than she expected and tackled her low, bringing her to the ground, the knife in his right hand. His body slammed hers into the ground. Frantically, she looked for the knife. It took all she could do to keep it from plunging into her. She let out a small scream as she managed to knock his hand away. He only came back again. She had to use both hands to grip his forearm, forcing him to hold the knife above her. Her arms shook from the effort. He was strong, stronger than she had expected. She held on, doing her best to keep it away from her. Releasing a menacing growl, his free hand grabbed a vicious hold of her hair and gave it a merciless tug. When she only gritted her teeth and didn't let go, he found her waist instead. His fingers dug in painfully through the material of her clothes, leaving red marks in their wake and making her call out sharply.

She was going to lose. She could feel it. It called for a new action. Without hesitating, she brought her knee up and connected with a very sensitive area of the male anatomy. Hard. It was a direct hit. He howled in rage. She used the precious seconds to push him off her and to get up. Trixie sprang away, realizing from somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind that she didn't have that much of a head start on him, and that she needed to make the best use of the few minutes she would have. Looking back, she saw that he was doubled over on the ground. He stared after her, a promise of deadly retribution shining through the cloud of pain on his face. It spurred her on to move even faster.

As she sprinted through the forest, going as fast as she possibly could, paying no heed to the noise that she was making, not now, not when speed was much more important than stealth, images flashed through her mind. Her parents, smiling and laughing, a strong, unbreakable unit, always supporting her, no matter what she did, no matter how stupid or foolish or brave it was. Brian, her big brother, always so sensible and serious and so brotherly, and always there when she needed him. Mart, her almost-twin, the one who could annoy her one minute and then in the next fiercely defend her. Bobby, the imp, the little brother she would give anything to be watching right now within the safe confines of their home, a task she had always complained about, instead of fleeing for her life through the merciless dark.

The rest of the Bob-Whites came next in her visual parade. Honey, her very best friend and partner, the one who understood her better than she even understood herself. Di, her close friend, who she had known since grade school, and who had just proven that she had as much courage as the others, despite what she believed about herself. Trixie would tell her that, once she saw her again. And she would see her again. She had to hold onto that hope or all would be lost. Then there was Dan, the handsome young man who she had once suspected of nefarious deeds but who had turned out to be an outstanding person, as well as an essential member of the B.W.G's, and one of her best friends.

Jim. Everything seemed to begin and end with him. She closed her eyes briefly, recalling everything about him, and blinked back a set of painful tears. She could almost feel the pressure of his arms around, the hug he had given her less than twenty-four hours ago within the safe confines of his bedroom, and the kiss he had pressed to her forehead. It gave her the concentration she needed, allowed her to pull on the small bits of remaining stamina she possessed and continue on through the night. She would never have left the Manor House that morning if she had known this was what awaited her. She would have stayed with him.

A tree branch slapped her in the arm. She ignored the stinging pain and pressed on, her pace frantic and frenzied. If she got caught this time there wouldn't be the chance to distract him. He was furious with her. She would have to fight. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, thinking she had heard a suspicious sound behind her, she missed seeing the edge of the small bank ahead of her. The next thing she knew her foot was seeking ground and coming up with nothing but air instead. She tried to grab onto a branch to pull herself back but she missed. Before she had time to think she was falling and rolling down a steep embankment, coming to a sudden and jolting stop when she collided with the unmoving base of a strong tree.

She lay on the ground, stunned for the second time that evening, and stared up into the night sky, the wind knocked out of her and desperately trying to find the energy to move. It took an amazing amount of work for her to pull herself up. Standing was nearly impossible. Almost doubling over in pain, she felt her left side, the side that had rolled into the tree, and felt a strange pull inside in her body. Gasping for air, it felt like it was around her ribs. She rubbed a hand over it, trying to feel for any broken bones but couldn't tell. All she knew was that she was in serious pain and in deep trouble. "Dear God, no," she rasped out agonizingly. "Oh, no, oh, no. This can't be happening. Not now. Not here." Even drawing a simple breath hurt. Moving slowly, each step jagged and sharp instead of fluid and easy, her arm holding her side in an attempt to ward off the pain, she turned off, seeking the shelter of the dark. Hiding was her only option. She wasn't going to outrun him now.


	35. Chapter 34

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Thirty-Four

Despite the fact that the cabin was exceptionally warm, Brian carefully wrapped an afghan over Di, who couldn't seem to stop shivering. He couldn't help but notice that it was one his mother had crocheted for Mr. Maypenny and remembered the day he and Trixie had brought it to their friend and neighbor, about three years ago. The pain of the memory hit him hard. The thought of not knowing what was happening to his sister was sharp and debilitating, nearly rendering him incapable of thought or movement. He forced a small smile to his lips for Di's sake and then turned to go, his brother at his heels. "Watch over her, Mart," Brian advised quietly during the short walk to the cabin's front door. "She's very sore and probably has a concussion. I know I don't have to tell you this but keep a close eye on her. Ideally she should be at the hospital but that's not an option. We need you to stay here."

Mart nodded his head. He glanced back at Di, who was cuddled into the corner of the small sofa, clutching the fringed edges of the afghan, and staring off into nothingness. She looked so lost and small and scared, so unlike the vivacious young woman that she was. It pulled at him. He scrubbed a hand over his worried face. "I'll get her there once we find out where Trixie is."

Brian agreed immediately. "Yes. Or when Mr. Maypenny comes home. According to Dan he should be here very soon. You could take Jim's car. His keys are still in it." He put his hands on his hips and stared out into the night. It wasn't like him to complain but the situation they found themselves in was one that he couldn't ever remember being experiencing before. "It would really help matters if the phone actually worked here or if there was cell phone service. Since it doesn't and there's not, I'll make sure that someone stops by to alert you and Di or Mr. Maypenny, if he's here instead, once we know anything."

"Trixie's not going to be coming here, is she?" Mart asked suddenly. The idea had been slowly eating away at him ever since Di had shared with them about the switch in their clothing. Extremely well-versed in the ways of his sister, he could infer from her actions that she had absolutely no intention of coming back to the cabin. She would choose to stay in the dark instead, if it meant keeping her friends and family safe, and would only come to the cabin if it was her last resort.

Brian stared at his brother, surprised by his astuteness. Although he had already come to the same conclusion, he hadn't realized that Mart had questioned it, too. "I highly doubt it, Mart," he shared softly. "She wouldn't willingly put anyone in the cabin at risk. But, in case she should come here…" he left the rest unsaid. She was being chased by the stalker, a potentially armed stalker. They couldn't correctly predict where she might end up.

"We're not going anywhere until we hear from someone or Mr. Maypenny returns. I'll make sure that someone is at the cabin before we go to the hospital." Nearly overcome with the overwhelming heat inside of the cabin, Mart ripped off his sweatshirt and tossed it onto the wooden chair Mr. Maypenny had built himself and felt instantly cooler. He grabbed Brian's arm before he left, waited until he could look into his brother's dark, somber eyes, and then said, "Save her, Brian. Do whatever you can to make sure that she is safe." He couldn't fathom what life would be like without…he couldn't even finish the sentence. "Promise me," he ordered, his voice shaking with the emotion behind his request. "You'll bring her home."

They stared into each other's eyes, one pair dark, one pair blue, and both with the same emotions of fear, anxiety, and trepidation swirling through them. "I promise, Mart," Brian whispered hoarsely. "We'll get her home, safe and sound." The words sounded hollow, even to his own ears, despite the force behind them. He sent up a quiet prayer that he would be able to live up to his promise. Then he left the cabin and ran to the station wagon. He glanced back at the cabin and saw his brother standing in the open doorway, watching him leave, with the most serious expression he had ever seen on his younger brother's face. Brian gave a small sigh, realizing how hard it was for Mart to stay behind and not join in the search for their sister but he couldn't leave. Di obviously needed him.

Then he didn't give Mart or Di another thought. He put the car in reverse and headed down the dirt road, driving faster than he ever had in his entire life, his imagination running wild at what he could possible find. Glen Road went by in a blur. He barely remembered to slow the car down to make the turn-off onto Trey Road. He did manage to go only a few miles above the speed limit and was glad that he had, not surprised by the multitude of vehicles parked along the normally quiet and isolated road. His mother's van, Dan's truck, an unknown car, and Honey's mother's car. Screeching to a stop, he parked the car next to hers and got out, his eyes scanning the area. There she was, standing by an embankment, looking down, and her shoulders slumped. Everything about her seemed to be crushed and dejected. He sprinted the distance to her and opened his arms. "Honey," he called out seconds before he came to her.

She threw herself into his arms, grateful to have him there. She sniffed, drew in the smell of his cologne, and suddenly began to feel alive again. The despair she had been experiencing dissipated, chased away by his mere presence. She had spent the past few minutes staring at Di's car, allowing her fear and worry to consume her. She had never felt so defeated in her life and never wanted to experience anything like that again. "I just got here myself. I wasn't sure what to do. Brian, what is going on?" His arms gave her much-needed comfort. She laid her cheek against him, sniffled, and wiped away a pained tear. "I'm so scared, Brian. I don't know what's going on, only the tiny little bit that Dan told me while he and Jim were driving here. He didn't share that much with me, other than the fact that Di was in a car accident and that Trixie was off somewhere in the woods. Please, please tell me. I've never been this scared." She looked up at him, her eyes moist and imploring, and held on tighter. "I can tell it's bad, Brian. I'm not an imbecile. Please. Be honest with me."

It was the only way he knew how to be. Brian held on to her, finding some relief in having her safely within his arms, and hoped that she gained strength from him, the way that he gained it from her. Clearing his voice, he gestured towards the woods. "Trixie's out there, Honey. Come on. I'll tell you the rest. We're going to go find her." He grabbed her hand, about to lead her into the woods, when the sound of police sirens broke the stillness of the night and interrupted them.

They stayed where they were, hands clasped, frozen in place, and watched the approaching line of vehicles with wide-eyed fascination. In less than a minute the once-quiet country lane was crawling with cars. Sleepyside Police Department cars. New York State Police cars. There were so many officers leaving their cars. Most were in uniforms but a few were dressed in plainclothes. Sergeant Molinson got out of the first car and raced over to them, well aware of the fact that they were short on time. He was tired, unbelievably so, having been at work since before seven o'clock that morning, and his face showed it, but his adrenaline had kicked in at the threat of the battle ahead of him. He didn't care that it looked odd to the other professionals for him to be addressing two civilians instead of them. He didn't have the luxury to worry about his own pride. He had to find out exactly what was going on and they were the only two who could possibly tell him the story. "What the hell is happening?" he barked out sharply as he approached the two Bob-Whites. He motioned towards the other officers who were trying not to listen in on the conversation. "I can't even begin to tell you how furious I am that the dispatcher didn't take the first call for help here seriously. When I was informed about the second call, I wasn't taking any chances. I immediately called for more assistance but I couldn't tell them why I needed it." He took a deep breath, shoving down his own worry, although he knew that it was going to be terrible. He hoped that he, his men and the State Police could bring it to a peaceful end, whatever it was. "Time is of the essence here, Brian and Honey. Let me in on it. Now."

Brian met and held the sergeant's steely gaze. "The stalker is Tilney Britten," he began, ignoring Honey's shocked gasp.

"I know that," Sergeant Molinson responded quickly and harsher than he intended, surprising both of them. His excitement at discovering the identity of the stalker had rapidly faded, to be replaced with apprehension and something suspiciously like fear, once he had heard about the two calls for help off of Trey Road. "We connected the dots about fifteen minutes ago and were ready to head over to his apartment to apprehend him when the call for assistance from Miss Wheeler came in."

She held her breath, her face going paler and paler, while Brian swiftly shared the rest of the information that he was aware of. "He wasn't after Trixie. He wanted Di. Somehow he got her out here and set up a roadblock. He caused her to have the car accident." He pointed to the car, in case the sergeant had missed it. "Then he chased her into the woods. Trixie came along sometime after that. I have no idea how she figured it out." His voice gave out. He choked back the worry and insisted with a vigor that had the sergeant staring at him, "She'll have to tell us when we find her. She went into the woods after them and saved Di. Di is safe, at Mr. Maypenny's cabin with Mart. Trixie's now the one in danger. She's out there, with him." He spat out the last word, almost as if it was a curse.

"Oh my." Honey bit her lip so hard she nearly drew blood. She couldn't stop the tears that spilled from her eyes. _Trixie_, was all she could think. Trixie was out there, up against a terrifying man. Shivering, she snuggled in closer to Brian, her worry doubling in its intensity, and stared into the night. What was happening out there? What was happening to Trixie? Where were Dan and Jim? she wondered frantically, clamping down on the hysteria that was threatening to overtake her.

He hid his own concerns under the professional façade that he needed to do his job. His smart eyes noted the pick-up truck while he competently filed away the information on Mart and Di's whereabouts. Doing the mental math, it didn't take a genius to figure out where the other two were. He would need the information to share with the other police officers. "I take it some other members of your group are out there, too?" Sergeant Molinson questioned astutely.

"Jim and Dan," Brian answered affirmatively. "I'm guessing that they have been searching for her for at least ten minutes now," he supplied helpfully. "It's been at least that long since they left the cabin. I doubt they drove the speed limit here."

He imagined they drove like the famed bat out of hell. "Frayne and Mangan. Keep it that way. Don't go out there yourselves." He gave them both a meaningful glare but had a strong feeling neither one of them were going to listen to him. He couldn't stay behind to babysit them, though. He hoped they didn't get tangled up in the mess. "I'm going to meet with the others, get the perimeters set up, assign positions, and start the search. It should take about five minutes before we'll be able to begin. I'd tell you to leave the area and get to someplace that is safe but I know I would only be wasting my breath." Turning on his heal, not offering a farewell, he strode swiftly away, his steps strong and purposeful, calling for attention from the other officers, and adrenaline humming vibrantly through his veins.

Honey looked up at Brian, her face ashen, and her eyes wide. "Oh, no! This is awful," she choked out past the lump in her throat, trying to comprehend the abridged version of the night's events that he had given the sergeant. She blindly started following Brian when he moved cautiously down the road, away from the police and the sergeant, without thinking of where he was going. She only knew that she felt safest with him. "I wasn't given the whole story from Dan when I talked to him on the phone a few minutes ago. What are we going to do?"

"Sergeant Molinson said that they won't be able to start their search for at least five minutes." He would be damned before he would let t he others search for his sister or let another minute go by without doing something. There was no way that he was going to stand back and watch from the sidelines. "Come on, Honey. We're getting a head start on them." Satisfied that they were far enough away not to be detected going into the woods, he started down the embankment, reaching back to assist her as she began her descent.

"What do you mean?" Honey matched his voice, low and soft. She carefully picked her way through the fallen branches and forest debris on the ground, using his hand to guide her. Throwing one last look over her shoulder, she saw the police officers gathered around Sergeant Molinson. None of them had noticed the fact that they had left the area.

Brian looked at her, lifted his eyebrows, and asked rhetorically, "Do you really think we're going to wait here to find out what's happening, Honey?"

Surprised, her hand flexed within his. Her smile was swift and pleased. She couldn't believe that he was willingly going against the orders that the sergeant had just given them. She was more than happy to go along with him."No. No, we're not," she replied back, absolutely delighted with his choice. Her best friend needed her. "Let's go, Brian."

They kept quiet and moved as quickly and as silently as they could, not wanting to draw any attention. Softly, they made it the rest of the way down the embankment without the officers witnessing their departure. Just as silently, they entered the woods. He slipped a thin flashlight out of the pocket of his jacket and turned it on. The pencil thin beam of light cut through the night and led the way as they traveled deeper into the forest, the sounds of the police becoming more muffled with each step that they took.

"Do you have any idea about where we are going?" Honey wondered after about ten minutes of hurrying through the woods, panting slightly from the exertion. It was so dark and eerie, even with the aid of the flashlight. It scared her, reminded her of the time before she came to Sleepyside and everything frightened her. She couldn't begin to imagine how Di or Trixie had felt, all alone and in the dark, with no one to help, and being relentlessly hounded by a madman. She shivered and pressed closer to Brian, unwilling to give up the comfort of his hand.

Shaking his head, he pointed off in the direction of the cabin. He could just make out the puffs of smoke swirling in the air. "Mart and I believe that she will not go in that direction. I wouldn't find it surprising at all if Jim and Dan have figured that out, too. She won't want to lead Britten towards Di or anyone else in the cabin." He flashed his light, encompassing the rest of the forest. "That leaves the rest of the woods for us to search."

It was going to be a daunting task, Honey realized, but kept that thought to herself. "Okay. Okay," she murmured, hoping to reassure him. At least it was a plan. A weak plan but a plan nonetheless. "That's acceptable. We have part of the woods that we can cross off." She wrapped her arms around her as a cool wind blew through the forest. It was becoming chillier by the second. "That's a start."

His response was interrupted by his vibrating cell phone. Brian pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the caller id and sighed loudly. It was his mother. "It's Moms," he whispered to Honey, uncertain what he should do next. "What should I do?"

Honey stared at the ground, following his quick steps. "She's been calling the Manor House every five minutes since about nine-fifteen. I avoided her calls," she whispered back, ashamed of herself, and slowly brought her eyes back up to his understanding ones. "I couldn't answer the phone. I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't want to worry her. I simply didn't know what to do, Brian," she explained, despising the fact that her legendary tact had failed her.

"I understand, Honey. My mother will, too," he hastened to assure her even as a feeling of dismay overtook him. He couldn't ignore the call, even out here in the woods, but he didn't want to stop searching, either. Somehow it always came down to him. It must be in the job description of being the eldest sibling. He always had to do the most unpleasant of tasks. He answered the phone with a simple, "Moms," and cradled it to his cheek. He kept moving the entire time, Honey at his side, as they hurried through the woods, with only the thin light of the flashlight to guide them, and studied each area they passed with an intensity he didn't know that he possessed.

"Thank God! You answered, Brian!" Helen gasped out and sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room, running her hand through her hair. Bobby stared at her but she ignored him. "I've been trying to get in touch with someone for almost an hour now. No one is answering at the Manor House or the cabin or the Farm, not that I really expected anyone to answer our phone, and no one is answering their cell phones. Why you all have cell phones that you don't answer is behind me." Helen's complaints were a sure sign of her agitation. The past hour had turned her nerves ragged. She popped up out of her chair and started pacing, needing to find some type of release for the tension that held her within its strong grip. "What is going on, Brian? What is happening to my children?"

He handed the flashlight to Honey, allowing her to light the way, snuggled her clammy hand within his stronger one, and pressed on through the woods. He listened carefully but all he could hear were the normal forest sounds of the night. "Moms, it's, well, it's not good. Are you sitting down?" He talked low and soothingly. Ever the doctor, he didn't want her fainting from the shock.

"Of course I'm sitting down." She did just that, plopping down into the last chair in the row and motioned frantically for Peter to come over and join her. She held her breath. When he reached her, she leaned closer to him so that he could hear the conversation. Then she ordered her firstborn, her voice shaking but strong, "Your father's here, too. Tell us now, Brian."

Brian helped Honey stepped over a tree and said into the phone, his voice as calm as he could make it, "We're searching for Trixie right now. She's in the woods, off of Trey Road and close to the preserve." He kept most of the information back, wondering how on earth he was going to share the worst of it with his parents or if it would be better for them to not know until they had reached its conclusion.

Peter's eyebrows snapped together. He grabbed the phone out of his wife's slack fingers. "What the hell do you mean, Brian?" he rasped into the phone, sliding a comforting arm over his wife, who had gone ashen and had dropped her head into her hands. Bobby stared at his father as if he had never seen him before. Their father never swore. Ever. He inched closer, trying to find out what was going on with his family.

Brian blew out a frustrated breath, feeling as if a strong weight was crushing down on him. "Look, Dad, I can't get into it right now. Trixie's in danger. The police are already involved. They have set up search teams to comb the woods. I talked to Sergeant Molinson not that long ago. Dan and Jim are already looking for her, as are Honey and I. We're going to find her, Dad." He remembered his promise to Mart. "We're going to bring her home."

"Why is Trixie in danger? Where…where is Mart?" He wondered how the hell everything had fallen apart. He glanced at his wife, who was silently sobbing into her hands, and wished that they had followed their instincts and had never agreed to let Trixie go into work that evening.

Brian ignored the question about Trixie. "Mart's at Mr. Maypenny's cabin with Di. She was in a car accident." He stopped talking. Brian lifted his head, thinking that he had heard something. He knew his father wasn't going to be happy with him but he declared strongly, "I've got to go. I'll call you back as soon as I can, Dad. It won't be for awhile, though." Then he ended the call and turned off his phone, silencing the vehement protests coming from the other end.

Honey watched him closely. She saw the fear as well as the regret he felt for cutting his father off and felt for him. It was extremely difficult for him to have hung up on his parents. "You did the right thing, Brian," she assured him after a moment of silence, placing a comforting hand on his forearm. "Now is not the time to talk. It's not."

"You're right, Honey. It's the time to act." Brian shook his head. He was going to be in serious trouble for ending the call like that, once everything was all said and done. He stared at his cell phone, imaging the series of words his father was going to be using when it went right to voicemail instead of ringing. He wouldn't be surprised if his father was waiting for them when they made it back to the road. Resolutely placing his phone back in his pocket, he pointed in the direction he had heard the soft sounds. They were still there and were coming their way. He had identified them. Footsteps. Running through the forest. "This way, Honey," he insisted, pulling her with him.

She followed behind, her ears open. "I hear it, too," she told him quietly and allowed him to place her behind a tree. They crouched down together, Honey pressed up against his body, the only form of protection he could give her, and listened to the muffled footsteps coming their way. Honey felt her cheeks burn. She had never been this close to Brian before. There wasn't a centimeter of space between them. If the situation wasn't so dire she would have enjoyed it more.

They saw the shadow before the person came into view at the end of path. He was tall and moved with a deceptive fleet-footed grace for his height. When a pale shaft of moonlight slipped across his face, they both saw that he had dark hair and a grim expression on his well-known and handsome face. Honey and Brian released twin sighs of relief before standing up and moving out from behind the tree, into his line of view.

Dan stopped short, stared hard, and then jogged up to them."What are you two doing out here?" he demanded low and fiercely. It wasn't the time to be gentle or worry about how they would take his words. He hooked his thumb in the direction he had come from and chastised them, "Come on, guys. I could hear the two of you talking from halfway across the forest. It's not needed. You need to be quieter than that."

It hadn't been the best idea to answer the call, Brian knew that, but he hadn't had it in him to ignore his family, either. He ignored the disapproval advancing off their friend in nearly tangible waves and focused on the results of his friend's search, instead. "What have you found, Dan?" Brian inquired somberly. "You've been out here longer than we have."

Dan wanted to take his frustrations out on them but, tightlipped, he held himself back. While it would help relieve some of his pent-up feelings of failure and helplessness, it wouldn't help matters, not in the long run. Frowning, he held up a tire iron. "This." He showed them the general direction he had found it. "I found it over there, about two or three hundred yards from here, and just about the time it occurred to me that Jim had intentionally sent me in the wrong direction." He had stood, watching the smoke from the fire he had started in the fireplace rise above the cabin far off in the distance, and had realized with nearly crushing insight that Jim had purposefully taken the most hazardous path.

"Trixie's not going to the cabin," Brian inferred for him. "She won't do it. Mart and I came to that conclusion before I left."

"Right." He turned and motioned with the tire iron towards the rest of the forest. "Jim took the east side. He's got to be closer to finding her than I am. I'm going to try and find him."

"You mean we are going to try and find him, as well as Trixie," Honey put in forcefully. The two of them were still unaccounted for. At least the odds were better that they would be found, sooner rather than later, with their small group of three and the police searching for them. Puzzled, she looked at the tire iron and inquired, "What is that thing doing out here, anyway? Why do you have it?"

Brian accepted it from Dan. He looked at it closely, noted the smear of dried blood at the end of it. "I'm guessing here, Honey, but it looks like this is the weapon that Trixie used to knock Britten out with when she got him off of Di. Di told us that Trixie had hit him with something but she wasn't sure what it was. She thought maybe it was a stick."

Honey paled even further. She was still lost in the dark on most of the events that had occurred during the evening but what Brian alluded to caused more fear to explode within her. What he could have done to Di was appalling. What he could be doing to Trixie...she didn't even want to go there. She started forward, fed up with wasting time, and declared impatiently, "Let's go. We've got to find them. Right now."

They traveled silently, making as little noise as possible, without talking, and moving as one. Every noise seemed to be magnified. Each time they thought they heard something it turned out to be a small forest animal, hungrily searching for its dinner. Every now and then they caught the muffled voices of the police officers, who seemed to be well at their backs. When they entered a small grove, Honey stopped suddenly, dropped Brian's hand and ran forward to something on the ground. The two young men watched as she knelt down on the ground and picked it up. Her hair cascaded in front of her face, hiding the object from their view.

"What is it, Honey?" Brian asked carefully when she didn't answer.

Feeling like she wanted to cry, Honey held it to her chest. "It's Di's sweater," she explained, turning back to look at them. "It was folded up neatly, right here on the ground. Why would Di have taken it off? Why would she have taken the time to fold it? It doesn't make any sense to me." Honey tilted her head to the side, bewildered. She didn't know about the switch in clothing. Their reaction puzzled her more.

Brian and Dan gave out sharp breaths, looked at each other, and knew what it meant. He had found Trixie. He had found Trixie and had somehow taken the sweater away from her. It was the only explanation. It was too damn cold for Trixie to have willingly given it up. She certainly wouldn't have folded it neatly, if she had taken it off by choice. She would have thrown it in a haphazard heap. Swearing to himself, Brian pulled out his flashlight and searched the area, ignoring the pleading expression on Honey's face for something more. He wasn't about to tell her what it meant. Too distracted, he couldn't find a blessed thing.

Dan followed the beam of light sharply. "Over here," he announced suddenly, his voice louder than he had intended it to be. He sprinted forward and pointed to the ground, excitement and dread warring within him. There were a few footprints on the ground. "Look, Brian, Honey. Footprints. These must be Britten's and here, the smaller ones, these belong to Trixie. They were here." How long ago was another question he didn't voice. His sharp eyes looked even closer, searching for any sign of blood but he didn't share his suspicions with his companions. He let out a momentary sigh of relief when he didn't find any.

Honey tugged on Brian's hand, dragging him behind her. "I think they went this way." She hurried over to the edge of the glade, her hand nervously touching the low branches. A few of them had been snapped off, as if someone had fled through them in a terrible hurry. Then she saw the ground and noticed how the grass had been trampled. "Yes. Someone definitely traveled through here." She started to move forward, wanting to inspect more, but was drawn back by Brian.

"Honey, stay between us," he ordered her, his dark eyes serious, plainly telling her without words that he wouldn't allow for any objections. For the first time he wished she had stayed on the road, with the police officers who would have been given that point as their perimeter placement. There wasn't a guarantee about what they would find. The beat of his heart become more erratic. He was sure that his blood pressure was starting to spike higher than it had ever gone before.

Without hesitating, Dan pulled out the gun from the waistband of his pants. He held it in front and immediately took the lead, ignoring the pointed looks from his friends. "Follow me," he ordered them abruptly, taking charge and motioning for the two of them to fall behind him. It was like he had ceased to be Daniel Mangan, their good friend, and had become someone much different and dangerous, right before their eyes.

Honey paled at the sight of the weapon that Dan held so incredibly competently within his grip. "Where…how…when did you get a gun?" Fascinated, she couldn't take her sights off of it. It looked dark. It looked menacing. It looked unforgiving. And it certainly looked like nothing she ever wanted to touch.

Dan didn't answer. There wasn't a need. "Turn off the flashlight," he advised instead and waited until Brian followed his orders. "We don't want anyone to know that we're coming." Then he moved into the front, made sure that Honey was behind him, the only amount of safety that they could provide her, and that Brian brought up the rear. He started moving, his steps low and light, and his eyes closely studying the ground for any signs that someone had passed over it. He found them and felt his palms start to sweat with nerves and anticipation. He moved as quietly as he possibly could, setting a good example for the two behind him, motioning for them not to talk. He could tell without a shadow of a doubt that they were walking in Trixie's footsteps, as well as the man that had given chase to her. It was just a matter of what they would find at the end of them.


	36. Chapter 35

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Thirty-Five

Moving was proving to be nearly impossible, even with the threat of capture at any given moment. It was difficult but Trixie kept walking, going as fast as she possibly could, listening intently for any sound around her. Thank goodness there was nothing but the quiet of the night. She shivered against the cool air, wishing she had something to cover her bare arms, even that blasted sweater of Di's. She held her left side, rubbing it lightly as if she could massage away the hurt, and then noticed a large stick laying on the ground. It took an effort but she bent down and picked it up, leaning on it like it was a cane, and deciding that it could double as a weapon, too, if the need should arise. It helped her move a little faster and took some of the pressure off her left side. Biting her lip, she wondered what she had done to her ribs when she had collided with that damn tree. Broken, bruised, cracked…she didn't know but it had to have been one of them. It couldn't have happened at a worse time. How she wished she could go back and relive those few seconds. She would have been much more careful. She swore at the memory of her own haste and subsequent folly, making a mental promise to herself that if she got out of this alive, she would remember to be more cautious and to at least look before she jumped into any situation.

Then she heard the soft, insistent sounds that could only have been made by sneakered feet. He was coming up on her faster than she expected. She hadn't been successful in keeping him down for long. Trixie paused and looked around wildly, forgetting about the cold and her injury, desperately seeking someplace to hide, someplace where he wouldn't think to look for her. Glancing to the left she saw the edges of a small riverbank and could hear the low murmuring of the creek running through it. No good. She would never be able to make it down there in time. Ahead were a few boulders. Not enough coverage for her. To the right sat her best shot, a deep grove of thick trees. Ignoring the painful pull in her side, she scurried over as fast as her injury would allow and disappeared into the shadows of the trees. She hid behind the largest trunk of the trees, with the long, black shadows serving as her only covering, and buried her face in her hands, hoping against hope that he wouldn't see her. Everything around her seemed to still. She couldn't hear any other noises; only the sound of those sneakered feet. It was like the entire forest had fallen asleep.

Then the insistent footprints arrived, mere moments after she had situated herself. Fast and muffled, moving further and further down the path, and coming closer and closer to her hiding place. She stopped breathing when she heard him about ten feet from her and pressed her body even closer against the tree. She didn't need to see him, able to envision it perfectly in her mind. He was stopping, looking around, and searching her out, most likely with an ugly frown on his face. A string of muttered curses floated back to her. She kept her body as still and stiff as a board and waited. And waited. The wait was excruciating. One minute, two minutes or ten…she didn't know. Time didn't mean anything to her anymore. Finally, after she thought her heart would pound right out of her chest and land on the forest floor, the sound of his feet began to recede from the area.

Stay or leave, her only options. Hiding a groan, she wasn't sure what to do next and dropped her head in her hands. With the way fate was treating her, she was certain that whatever choice she made would be the wrong one. Trixie waited a few minutes before she couldn't stand it. Too impatient to wait any longer, she decided she wasn't going to stay and be a sitting duck. She needed to be on the go, even if she didn't have a destination in a mind or that a lame and blind tortoise could have beaten her in a race. Only wincing a little, she came out from behind the tree and was brought to an immediate and horrifying halt, her hand covering the startled gasp that fell from her lips.

"Gotcha," Tilney Britten smirked, leaning against a boulder across from the path, a picture of disarming negligence with his arms crossed over his chest and his fake blue eyes alight with an unholy glee. He pushed off the rock, planted his feet and looked her up and down, noting the stick in her hand and the way she unconsciously held her side, unintentionally giving away her injury. He studied her face, noting the bruising and the cuts. It made him grin, thrilled to have been the cause of them. "I'm very grateful you finally decided to come out. I was about to give up on you and come over and get you myself. It would have been a lot less dramatic that way, don't you think?" he questioned, arching an eyebrow.

Defeated, Trixie closed her eyes, allowing for one terrifying moment the belief that she really had lost to cross her mind, and swayed in the light breeze rippling through the forest. She nearly fell, was saved only by the presence of the stick at her side. He had seen her, had probably caught up to her well before she had heard him. She cursed her injury, knowing that was the reason why he had been able to follow her so quickly and swiftly. She stood where she was, as still as a marble statue, her eyes big and frightened, and prepared herself for what he would do next. The stick was clutched tightly in her fingers, her only weapon against him. She doubted if she would even be able to wield it correctly, not with the loss of motion she had suffered from her hurt ribs. Thinking about weapons, she stared at his hands and had at least a tiny moment of relief. No knife, as of yet. It was still hidden away.

The satisfaction was pouring over him like molten lava, leaving in its wake a malicious anticipation at her upcoming destruction. He had her. He had won. He felt powerful, like there was nothing that could prevent him from completing his final terrifying act. There would be no escape for her this time. He would see to that. His smirk turned into a slow, malevolent smile when he saw the way her right hand held onto her left side. He hadn't witnessed how she had hurt herself but it didn't matter. He was more than willing to cash in on whatever mistake she had brought upon herself and be grateful for it. Unfreezing his feet, he started circling around, keeping her within his sights the entire time.

It was like some horrible, chilling waltz, one she was forced to participate in without knowing each despicable step or how the dance would ultimately end. She moved to the right while he walked around her like a buzzard waiting to go in for the kill, her gait stilted and stiff, keeping her feet moving and trying to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. She didn't speak. Neither did he. Both were intent on the other. He chuckled lowly every now and then, more than delighted by the fear he could feel coming off of her in waves, while she desperately tried to hold back the rising panic. Her fear fed into his own eagerness. By the time they came to a stop she was near the boulder and he was only five feet away from her, barely out of his arm's reach.

"I have come to the conclusion that you are not nearly as smart as everyone in this godforsaken town thinks you are." His voice broke the stifling quiet surrounding them. Assured of a final victory, he was more than willing to prolong it, to enjoy every single second, and to cherish each and every scared look from her. His arrogance grew with each passing second while cruel visions of what he wanted to do to her danced wickedly in his head.

Trixie didn't respond, incapable of speech at the moment. It was too difficult. She was having enough troubled remembering how to breathe, let alone speak. She kept her gaze on him, not willing to let herself be distracted, and prepared herself for whatever was to come next. She gripped the stick so tight that the bark cut into her palm but she didn't feel it. She didn't want to miss his advance, which she could tell would be coming at any moment. She made herself stand as straight as her poor body would allow. If this was to be the final showdown she was going to give it all she had within her. She would not go down without a fight. It went against the very soul of her. She was a fighter to the core.

"You certainly aren't as talkative anymore, my dear. If I remember correctly, I couldn't shut you up earlier," Britten noticed with a dry chuckle. Pointing towards her left side, he asked with feigned sympathy, "Could that be why? It seems that you met with an unfortunate accident, somewhere along the way. How did you manage to hurt yourself?" He shook his head, made a small tisking sound. "What a shame. What a pitiful shame." Her answer meant nothing to him. He was only slightly curious about what she would say.

She found her voice, weak and wobbly. "I'm not hurt," Trixie lied with a defiant toss of her head, sending her tangled curls bouncing. She straightened as tall as she could, ignoring the answering twinge within, and did her best to hide the wince of her effort. She nearly succeeded. His answering snort told her he hadn't missed it. "I'm not hurt at all. I'm perfectly fine. I've never been better," she insisted fiercely.

"It makes me happy to hear that you are not hurt," he murmured, seeing through her lie and reveling in the knowledge that she would be an easy target for him, almost hardly worth the effort but he would see that the end result more than made up for the lack of a fulfilling challenge. Slitting his eyes, he planned out his strategy. One strong push ought to do it. It would knock her down and keep her there for the count.

"Like I said before, I'm feeling fine. Really, I'm not sure what you are thinking. I've never been better," Trixie repeated with a bit of sass. Her hand fisted at her side. It was easier to focus on him instead of the pain. It didn't seem to hurt as much, not when she was facing down the potential bearer of her death. Swiftly thinking back to the past week and a half of her life, attempting to come up with a question about his plan, not that she cared, she tried to dredge up something to keep him talking. Anything would do, as long as it would ward him off, and halt whatever his plans were for her. She would do anything to get out of the merciless dark he had brought her into. She wanted to get back into the light, away from him, where she was safe and secure and surrounded by those that she loved. "You really took care of everything, didn't you? How did you manage to do it all?" She infused what she hoped passed for genuine interest into her voice and studied him.

His mouth lifted up at one corner, not fooled for a single moment. She was trying to postpone the inevitable. Noble, he supposed, but useless. Completely and utterly useless. Nodding his head sagely, he announced with a small sigh, "Grasping at straws, I see. How disappointing. I thought more of you. We've already been through it, Trixie, my dear. I don't think there's anything else I want to share with you about my plans. It's already been covered." He pointed to the bruise on her cheek. "I think you would remember. You're wearing the proof of our earlier conversation, only a few short minutes ago. I must say, it looks awfully good on you." He leaned back to admire it. "Yes, it certainly does."

Trixie took a reflexive step back from the grinning monster in front of her, covering her bruise with a shaking hand, and grasping at straws, just as he had said. Thinking quickly, she asked the first thought that came to her, despite the fact that she realized how ineffective it would be, "What…how did you figure out I had received the letter, instead of…" Gasping, she left the question unfinished, unwilling to bring up Di's name, not wanting to do anything to bring his powerful anger back.

His eyes gleamed while he grumbled petulantly, "You're not listening. I've already gone through this with you. I am not going to talk about it with you again. My desire is not for more talking. I've had about enough of your voice as I can stand. I desire something much more interesting from you." He advanced another step while she moved back. They did the awkward dance for a few more steps, another series of uncomfortable waltzing movements, and neither gaining an inch of space.

Her mind was too full of what he wanted to do to her, not on a successful way on how to distract him from his cruel intentions. "I saw Sergeant Molinson collect the employee records today," she blurted out hoarsely, finding it hard to believe that only two hours earlier she had been sitting behind the front desk at the Country Club, with hardly a care in the world. "He came into the Country Club to get them earlier in the evening."

"I saw him, too," he threw back, a thick vein starting to thump on the side of his forehead while he held a tight lid on the simmering temper that was threatening to explode. He nearly stomped his foot on the ground, beyond agitated with the whole mess his carefully constructed plan had been turned into, and all because of her. It was the reason why he had to suddenly change his final destination to tonight and the woods, instead of his original intention. The bluffs would have been much more friendly and inviting, compared to the coolness of the woods. "But we've already been over this. I'm sick of talking, anyway." His lips twisted into a thin, ugly smile. "I believe it's time for the final scene, don't you?" He reached behind for his favorite weapon of choice.

She saw the knife in his hand, held up her stick, and felt a hard knot form in the pit of her belly. "No, I really don't think it's time," she answered truthfully, slowly shaking her head. It seemed like her words were coming from somewhere far, far away. "Surely there is something else you want to tell me. You must want to prove to me how clever you were." She almost tacked on a please but her pride wouldn't allow her to.

"Your pitiful attempt at distraction is not necessary and it's not working. It's all been cleared up; to my satisfaction, at least. I do believe that my point of view is the only one that matters now. It doesn't matter to me if you have any questions about the nuances of my impressive scheme." He looked from the deadly knife to her, imagining what it would feel like to slice into her smooth flesh. Unbelievably good. Unbelievably right. She more than deserved it, his demented mind screamed. It was time. He was done toying with her. "Let's make it a game of it, then," Britten murmured and motioned forward with his hands, offering her an early start with a pleasant smile on his face that caused shivers to travel up and down her spine. "I'll even give you a head start. Three seconds. Consider it my parting gift to you."

She didn't stand a chance if he attacked her full-on. She turned on the balls of her feet to flee before he started counting and managed four halting steps away from him, a testament to her strength of will. "One, two…" he counted, slowly and methodically, watching her attempt to run and laughing at her with unmitigated humor. He didn't honor his promise, not that she had expected him to. He tackled her from behind, bringing her down, and enjoying the painful gasp of surprise when she collided with the hard ground, with him partially on top of her. He slapped the stick out of her hands and made sure to put extra pressure on her left side, extremely pleased with the sharp gasp he earned for his endeavor. "And three," he breathed hotly into her ear, roughly turning her over so that he could see her face, needing to look deeply into her eyes. He expected the fear. It fed his desire, made him even more eager to proceed. "See how simple that was? You didn't stand a chance," he remarked jovially, like the intimidating bully that he was.

There didn't seem to be an escape from him. One arm held hers pinned to her body. He increased his hold on her left side, grinding his elbow into the tender spot of her rib cage, causing her to emit a sharp groan and fresh tears to spring to her eyes. She wouldn't let them fall. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, doing whatever she could to not give him anymore satisfaction. His legs were thrown across hers, not letting her move at all. Her chest rose and fell in an erratic manner while she watched with morbid fascination the knife that he lifted into the air.

He held it aloft and then leered down at her. "What a shame. It looks like your time is up, Trixie Belden. You should never have come between me and my lovely Diana." Thinking of how she had done that made his eyes go hot and deadly, with the promise of lethal retribution shining brightly within. "You should have left well enough alone. We would all have been happy. Diana and I would have been together and you, well, you would at least still be alive."

He pressed the sharp blade against the soft skin of her neck, holding it there, putting just enough force on it for the blade to puncture the skin. The small dot of blood that appeared only whetted his appetite for more. "What a beautiful sight," he crooned to himself, watching it bead and then trail down the side of her neck. The deep red stood out against the pale color of her skin. "I'll need to make sure that I see more of it." He pulled the knife back a few inches and turned it over, admiring the sparkle of the blood on the blade in the shaft of the thin moonlight, extremely pleased with his handiwork, confident that she was absolutely at his mercy.

A soft, soft whistle. _Bob-white. Bob-white_. So soft she almost didn't hear it. Feeling hope, an emotion that had become so foreign to her over the past hour and an odd feeling to have at such a terrifying point in her life, blossom unexpectedly within her, she slowly turned her head and met the emerald green eyes that were staring back at her. Only a mere ten feet away. She had to blink twice in order to believe that she was really seeing him, that he was not some type of a mirage her petrified mind was conjuring up to alleviate her fear or welcome her into the afterlife. He didn't fade away. He was still there. Becoming lost in his eyes, she saw the fury and the terror that were grappling inside him. His face was white and set in determined lines. His lips were thin and the expression on his face…he looked like he could take care of Britten with his hands alone. He looked ready to spring into action at any possible moment. And he was the most wonderful sight she had ever seen. Gaining strength from the knowledge that Jim was here, that she wasn't alone anymore, she unwillingly dropped her eyes and turned back to him and the knife, willing to give Jim the chance to attack.

Jim crouched besides the boulder, waiting, just waiting for his chance, feeling the tension begin to build within him until it was ready to explode with the unstoppable force of a volcano. Their voices had finally alerted him to their locations. He cursed the fact that he hadn't been faster, that he hadn't chosen the right paths to get to her. If he had arrived a few minutes earlier, he would have been able to prevent the scene playing out in front of him. He had crept up behind them, just in time to see the bastard tackle Trixie and bring her to the ground. He hadn't missed seeing the scratches and the bruising on her face, even in the thin light of the night, as well as the hopeless expression on her face. It galled him to have to wait for the right moment to pounce. He held back a string of vicious swear words because he couldn't move now, when the anticipation was riding him hard, and the need to get her away from his clutches was overpowering. He felt for the gun, snuggled in the pocket of his jacket, his fingers touching it and finding a dark comfort in the smoothness of it, but even his weapon was useless. It wouldn't come in handy. Not yet. The knife was still dangerously close to her neck. All it would take was one wrong move on his part. It was practically killing him, seeing Trixie on the ground, weak and hurt, with the bastard on top of her, but he would have to wait until the moment was right.

The knowledge that he was here, watching and waiting, gave her the strength to look beyond her own pain and fear. She pushed her elbows into the ground and wiggled forward, gaining a few inches of much-needed space between them, panting with the exertion. Searching her mind frantically for something to say, to prolong the moment and give Jim the chance that he needed to help her, she commended him, wanting to keep his attention focused solely on her and not on her savior only a few feet away, "You…you've won. Really, you have. I don't have a chance at all."

While he had been chasing her through the forest, fueled by the anger that she had so easily stirred within him, he had only had one thing in mind. Her death. Not just any death but a brutal one. But, if she was willing to stroke his ego, he didn't mind postponing it, not for a few minutes. Watching the thin line of blood dribbling from the small cut on her neck, he gifted her with a feral smile. "The fact that you have accepted your fate is admirable." He reached up with his free hand and stroked her blonde curls. It wasn't the black hair that he dreamed about but he would make do. "I had already made up mind about how I wanted to end your life. Maybe I'll change it and make your death much quicker than I had intended, especially if you are going to be nice to me about it. It's a pity you had to stick your pert little nose in it." He flicked the end of her nose with his knife, not hard enough to cut, but hard enough to terrify.

"Wha…what…whatever you want," she stammered out, staring into the eyes of the pale blue eyes of the devil and not liking what she saw there at all. The knife was laying against the side of her cheek, just laying there, promising more pain. "You're in charge." Her breath coming in short pants, she watched him closely, noticing the almost inhuman expression that fluttered across his face, making her think that he was more animal now than human. Drawing in a sharp breath, she saw that it was going to be now.

Jim saw Britten rear back, knife raised up high. He focused on the man, did his best not to look at Trixie. If he did, he was afraid he would lose his opportunity. Without wasting another moment, he shot up from his spot and lunged, hitting him across the chest, taking him off Trixie and slamming the smaller man to the ground. "Get away," he barked out sharply to Trixie without looking back at her. He felt her feet kick him accidentally as she rolled away.

She ended up on her knees. "The knife, Jim!" she warned shrilly, not following directions at all. She watched with morbid fascination as Jim threw an uppercut under his chin, snapping his head back into the ground, and flinched at the sound of knuckle meeting hard bone. The knife fluttered out of his hand, to land on the ground, momentarily forgotten.

"That's for what you did to Di," he told Britten harshly, in a tone he had never used before, finding an intense pleasure at the blood dripping from Britten's lips. He drew back. Jim's closed fist connected powerfully with the right side of his face, causing blood to spurt out from his nose. It was even better the second time. Jim sat back on his haunches, admired his handiwork, his hand throbbing but more than ready for the next punch. "That's for daring to touch Trixie," he spat out, hatred washing over him in waves.

Momentarily stunned, Britten didn't know what to do next. For the first time he didn't have the upper hand. Breathing heavily, he weighed his options, mentally calculating the odds of the battle. The redhead was younger, taller, heavier, and athletic, but he still had an advantage, one that the younger man didn't know about. At least two full years of daily weight lifting, courtesy of the state correctional institute of New York State. His arm came up unexpectedly, blocking a third shot from Jim, and let loose with one of his own, knocking Jim's head back in the process.

Jim wasn't about to give up, didn't even feel the pain of the blow or the bruise already forming on the side of his cheek. He grabbed hold of the bastard's jacket and hauled him up, using his weight to his advantage, and then pummeled a fist into his stomach and quickly followed with another to his face. Jim dominated, much to his own satisfaction, landing punch after punch, and only receiving a few more.

Britten doubled over after a series of hard shots, actually welcoming the pain, as the last one sent him to the ground. He used it as a source of strength and came back with a punch of his own, as well as something else he kept hidden at his side. Jim sidestepped the attempt easily, managed to get in two more solid contacts, before he felt something sharp slicing into his right arm.

"You should have listened to your girlfriend," Britten remarked smartly as he cut an uneven line into the strong forearm, unexpectedly halting the progress of the fight. It wasn't as deep as he would have liked it to go but it served its purpose, giving him the advantage that he needed. So what if it was dirty? There weren't any rules when one was fighting for survival. He increased the force of the knife, letting it travel all the way from the elbow down to the wrist. When Jim looked down at the source of the sudden, jagged pain on his arm, seeing the blood spill out of the cut and begin to soak his jacket, Britten brought up a fist and slammed it under his chin, knocking the younger man back to the ground.

It took a minute for her to realize what had happened, watching the fight take a turn for the worse. Mortified, mouth open and bringing her hands to her cheeks, she took two steps towards Jim and then stopped. She stared at an object lying at her feet. Moonlight illuminated it. She reached for it, feeling the promise of its force in her hands, and studied it with wide-eyed wonder. How it had come to end up in the woods she didn't have the foggiest notion, nor did she care. As she held the weapon in her hand she knew without a doubt that she could take another's life, if it was required of her. Her eyes narrowed into thin blue slits as she zeroed in on her target. And it was required of her. She would take his.

"Don't move," she got out forcefully past the lump in her throat, halting Britten as he was about to advance on Jim again, brandishing his knife. "I mean it."

He rolled back on the balls of his feet, knife in hand with fresh blood dripping from the blade, and a disbelieving expression on his face. It looked like the tables had been turned once again. This time, not in his favor. He was started to have trouble keeping up with the flow. "This evening has been full of surprises," he remarked lowly to himself, successfully halted in his progression. The evening hadn't gone anywhere close to the way he had wanted it to go. He let loose a series of swears that should have turned the air blue and studied the woman in front of him. Well-versed at reading people, he saw that she wouldn't have any trouble shooting him.

Jim pulled himself into a crouching position, so damn proud of her for fighting back and for being so brave. He saw the gun, decided that it must have fallen from his pocket when he had attacked, and admired the steely look in her eyes. "Good for you, Trix," he mumbled approvingly, staring at Britten and keeping her within his sights.

"Drop the knife," Trixie ordered in her best authoritative voice, the gun firm and competent in her hands. She was almost amazed when it looked like he was going to comply.

Britten didn't have anything left to lose, carefully weighing his next step. Wondering if it was the end of the road for him or if his strand of miraculous good luck would continue, he made a move as if to drop the knife and then pretended to attack, slicing the knife through the air towards her. Yelping, she didn't hesitate and pulled the trigger. A bullet should have ripped a hole through his chest but it didn't. Nothing happened. Surprised flickered across her face. He let out a small laugh and jumped at her before Jim could move, ripping the weapon out of her hands and letting the knife fall to the ground.

"Safety first," he sneered jeeringly at Trixie, flicking the safety switch off and grabbing a handful of her hair. He pulled her up, held her with one arm against his chest and pressed the gun under her chin. She winced at the sharp contact. He closed his eyes, visualizing the path the bullet would take. A fiery path, one that would start under her chin and travel through and out her head. It would be worth the gory mess.

Jim brought himself to his knees, disregarding the blood trickling down from the fresh wound on his right arm, and his heart pounding out frantically at the sight of Trixie with a gun to her. Frowning, he gauged the distance between him and the two, worrying anxiously how he could get to Trixie before that bastard pulled the trigger, and hating himself with vehemence for not being able to get her safely away. He knelt forward, like a sprinter waiting for the start of a race, one hand on the ground, and watched for his opportunity, doubting he would have more than one.

Then he caught something out of the corner of his eye, a movement that had him hiding a sigh of relief. He turned his head slightly, to see if he was correct. He was. Never more grateful to see someone else in his entire life, he let the flow of relief and anticipation move through him. Making direct eye contact with the stern man only a short distance away, he nodded. He knew what he was required to do. Distraction was key, as was getting Trixie safely out of the line of fire. "Let her go," he ordered Britten tautly.

He only held on tighter and chuckled. "You're in no position to give orders. I've got her again, right where I've wanted her. It seems my weapon has changed but that's not a big deal to me. I've learned recently that I'm extremely flexible." His laugh was like nothing either of them had ever heard before. "This time it's you who has been left out in the cold."

He had to keep him talking. "That was pretty low," Jim responded, stressing the word 'low', and looking meaningfully at Trixie. Her slight frown told him she didn't understand. "Attacking two girls, alone, out in the woods. Trixie's not alone anymore. That's the sign of a coward, if you ask me," he continued on, choosing his words carefully, and wondering what else he could say to let her know that the cavalry was hiding in the woods.

For once, Trixie held her tongue. Concentrating on Jim, she realized that he was trying to tell her something very important but she couldn't catch what it was. She gave a small shake of her head, telling him that she was clueless. Looking at him made her feel better, helped her to ignore the deadly weapon residing under her chin, and the feel of the unforgiving hand that was threatening to rip her hair from her scalp.

"I'm not a coward," Britten chocked back sharply, pushing the gun more firmly against Trixie's chin. His hand tangled in her curls, giving another vicious tug that had Trixie gasping and Jim glaring daggers at him. "I'm not. You should really be more careful with your words, Frayne. I think you're forgetting who exactly is in charge here." He waved the gun in the air. "It would be me, in case you are wondering."

"I know exactly who's in charge," Jim answered with forced calmness, staring at Trixie, willing her to figure out the meaning behind his words. "I think it would be best if you would let her go, get down and get out of here, and lay low. No one will come after you, not if you leave us alone," he lied without a qualm, making him promises that he had no intention of keeping. "If you leave now you could be on your way to the next town, safe and sound, with no one the wiser. Trixie and I won't tell anyone, not a soul. But you've got to _stay low_."

"I have no intentions of leaving any witnesses alive." He shook his head, unaware of the significance behind Jim's string of words. "None at all. It's your bad luck that you happened upon us."

What Jim was trying to tell her was becoming clearer and clearer to Trixie. "I'm in the way," she blurted out hastily before she could stop herself. She wanted to search out the help herself but stamped down on the impulse, unwilling to give Britten the knowledge that there was at least someone else out there in the dark, more than ready and willing to take him down. Someone else was out there, somewhere, with an equally deadly gun, and she had been placed right in the middle of their aim. She gave an annoyed look at the arm holding her, her eyebrows coming together while she tried to figure out a safe way to get out of his arms. Feeling the pressure of the gun under her chin, she realized with crystal clear clarity what his first and only reaction would be.

Jim gave a curt nod, crouched low on the ground, itching to spring at him. He couldn't stand up, had been ordered to stay low himself. If he did, that would bring him into the line of fire. He didn't look to the man who was dying to get off a shot, not wanting to give away the position of their help.

Britten didn't catch the intense interplay between the two. Fed up with the flow of the conversation, with the overwhelming blood lust running through him begging to be released, he wrapped his arm tighter against the irritating girl, finding dark pleasure in the way that she tried to cringe away from him but couldn't because she had nowhere to go, and sneered at Jim, "I must say, Frayne, you have absolutely terrible taste in women. The worst ever. This one here has caused me nothing but trouble since the moment I met her."

"No." His eyes were narrowed, his tone was ice cold, and his expression was grim. "I have the absolute best taste," he shot back fiercely, flexing his fingers. Blood continued to trickle down his right arm, fell to the forest floor. He ignored it. He forced his breath to come in even pants and kept his gaze on Trixie. He had to get her out of his grasp. The man out there couldn't do anything until she was safely out of the way. Anticipation had a taut hold on him. Coming to the only decision available to him, he decided that he would attack, using his bigger body to shield her, if Trixie couldn't get away from him.

Trixie slid her gaze down to her foot and Britten's knee and looked back expectantly at Jim. He shook his head, not wanting her to attempt to kick the man to gain her release and antagonize him further. "No," he mouthed back firmly to her. Britten would pull the trigger without a second thought.

"Here. If you think she's the best, have her, then. I'm rather sick of her myself." Britten unintentionally took the matters out of their hands. With a flick of a wrist he tossed Trixie to the ground, right at Jim's feet, shocking them, and leveled the gun at them, his pale blue eyes staring down over the small barrel of the gun. "There's no accounting for taste."

The pain that shot up through her would have been debilitating if she wasn't relieved to be near Jim. Trixie didn't waste a second before scooting into the welcoming shelter of his body, almost burrowing her way into him. It felt so good to be next to him, safe even, which she realized was an insane thing to think when there was a gun pointed at them. An arm clasped around her waist, keeping her as tightly to him as he could. Understanding that the end was coming, she couldn't concentrate on the words the madman was saying. She laid her head on Jim's chest, peeped up at him, her eyes full of every secret she longed to share with him, and prayed strongly for the right ending.

"I'll take care of you two, right here, right now," Britten said idly, a menacing smile playing across his mouth. "Maybe I'll honor requests. I've noticed over the past few days that you two seem to be inseparable. Either of you care to go first?"

Without hesitating, Jim threw his larger body over hers, gathering her as closely to him as he could, pinning her to the ground, and offering her the only protection available. Carefully cradling her head to his chest, he waited for the onslaught. If a bullet was coming their way, he would take it first. Time seemed to come to a complete and total standstill. Nothing, not a damn thing, for the longest second of their lives, only the rasping sound of their combined breathing. Then a single gunshot exploded brutally through the night. An almost unearthly silence settled over the woods.


	37. Chapter 36

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Thirty-Six

It seemed like they had been walking through the woods for hours. Time had ceased to exist. It didn't seem to matter anymore. "Do you think we're getting close?" Honey whispered to Brian, unable to handle the silence any longer. Dan turned back and aimed a fierce glare at them, effectively cutting off Brian's reply, and motioned for them to be quiet. Duly chastised, Honey gave him an apologetic look. They continued moving as a unit through the dark of the forest, traveling silently, with all three lost in their own thoughts.

Suddenly, the night was interrupted by an explosive gunshot, followed closely by a quiet that was eerie in the extreme. In the shadows of an ancient oak tree, Honey came to a complete and total stop, her hand covering her mouth, her heart racing, and terrible images flashing through her mind. What could have happened? Whirling around wildly, she stared at Brian and then at Dan and saw the same terror reflected on their faces that was gripping her own heart. She didn't want to waste another minute. Heedless of any potential danger to herself, she took off like a shot, running with a fleet-footed grace through the thick brush of the forest floor that left the two men with her in awe, as well as astonishment that she would push on without them. She headed in the direction of the gunshot and sprinted the fastest she had ever gone in her entire life, without paying any attention to the shouted orders to stop coming from behind or the branches slapping at her arms. Her feet pounded through the forest, barely aware of Dan and Brian running behind her. She burst through a thick line of trees, only to come to a screeching halt at what she saw. Her breath came in short, quick pants as she covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh, no," she gasped out, shaking her head, her lovely hazel eyes nearly swallowing up her face. "No, no, no! This can't be happening."

Jim, lying prone, flat on his stomach on the hard ground. He was not moving. She caught the tangle of legs, realized that Trixie was underneath him. For one horrible, horrible second she thought the worst, while her eyes become moist with unshed tears and her body started to tremble in shock. Then she watched Jim lift his head slightly and saw Trixie's legs start to move, putting her immediate fears to rest, and bringing her some much-needed relief. Her shoulders slumped as the tension left her body. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead and ran a hand through her hair in an attempt to calm herself and took a series of deep, calming breaths in order to get her heart rate back to a more normal pace. Her eyes traveled to the still body a mere five feet away from them, with dark red blood flowing out from a small hole in his chest and soaking into the hard earth below. There was no movement from him, nothing but the spill of the blood. Biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out, she turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut, unable to look at such a grisly image.

Sergeant Molinson competently placed the gun back into its holder on his utility belt, correctly reading the emotions parading across her face, and not surprised by her arrival in the least. Contrary to his orders, he hadn't expected her or Brian to stay on the road and wait to find out what had happened in the woods. There was simple no way they would have been able to follow his directions, not with so many of their own out in the woods. He lifted an eyebrow when the other two Bob-Whites hurried up behind her, his only sign of disapproval at their choice, and chose not to lecture them about the dangerous hazards of joining in a police search when they were clearly not invited to. When he snapped the lid closed on his gun holder, Honey jumped reflexively and saw him for the first time. "When I shoot, I don't miss," he informed them calmly, without a hint of arrogance to his voice. It was the plain and simple truth. He gave Honey a small smile and waited for the multitude of police officers to start filing onto the scene. It wouldn't take too long. The gunshot would bring them running. He was impressed that the Bob-Whites had beaten them to the area and fleetingly wondered if he should have all of them on his payroll.

Unaware of their growing audience, Jim carefully disentangled himself from Trixie. He lifted his chest up, gave a sharp look to their right, and experienced an almost agonizing sense of satisfaction at the sight of Tilney Britten, lying in a pool of his own blood. The horrible man had a shocked expression on his face, as if he couldn't believe that he had really been shot and that he had reached the end of his dark, despicable road. _Good riddance _was all Jim could think, his lips curling back into a sneer at the man he despised with a deep passion. He stared at him for one more minute, letting the image burn a hole into his memory, almost as if it was a penance for his failure in not being able to get to Trixie earlier or to prevent the pain and terror that she had felt through the long evening. Then his morbid contemplation was over. He didn't give the bastard another thought.

Jim felt her chest rising and falling with each breath against him, glanced down at Trixie, and was so damn grateful to have her alive and relatively well. Her mouth was set in a pale, thin line. Her eyes, the beautiful blue ones that had haunted his dreams for much longer than he cared to admit, were closed, with her dark lashes fanning becomingly across her ashen cheeks. He wished she would open them so he could see into them and find out exactly how she was feeling. He was schooled in deciphering in her moods, could almost always tell what emotions she was experiencing by simply looking at her. He smoothed a hand over her head, noticing that her curls were tangled even more than usual. But they were just as soft. He rubbed one between his fingers, enjoying the feel of the silky texture. Then he followed her arm and saw that she had a hand over her ribs, right where he knew that she hurt the most, and felt his own frustrated anger start to rebuild again. He would have given anything to go back in time and prevent the evening from happening. Although it was useless to think like that, he couldn't prevent it. She had been hurt and terrified in a way she had never experienced before, in a way he hoped and prayed that she never had to experience again. It bothered him even more that while she had been saving Di and running for her own life, he had been blissfully unaware of it all, safe at the cabin. Guilt ate at him, would continue to do so for a long time to come.

Then he focused on her face again, his eyes narrowing at what met his eyes. Britten's brutality had stamped a portrait of sheer and utter pain across her face. The bruise across her cheek was even more prominent against the ashen pallor of her face, was already a vibrant purple. It nearly encompassed her entire cheek, told the story of the hard slap she had received better than if he had witnessed it himself. A victim of more than one hard hit to the face, as well as too many other body parts, from his time with his stepfather, he knew what it was like. The feeling of hopeless, helpless anger almost outweighed the pain. Almost. Wishing he could have taken the pain for her, he did what he had wanted to do since the first moment he had come upon her, battling for her life. Gentle hands framed her face tenderly, traced the cuts on the one side of her face and examined the swelling on the other. He saw the tiny cut on her neck, with the line of dried blood, and drew in a sharp breath. "It's not too bad. It's not. It'll heal," he murmured, more to himself than to her. The swelling would go down. The bruising would fade away. The cut would mend. But he would never forget it in his entire life.

She opened her startled eyes, looked right at him, and sighed deeply, finding enjoyment in the way that he touched her face. It was almost as if he was taking away the pain with his fingers. It didn't seem to be as sharp or as throbbing anymore. Her breathing finally started to return to normal. "Jim," she said simply and easily, hoping he knew how much she meant with that one small word. She hoped she didn't have to leave the ground for a long time. It was becoming a much more comfortable bed than she had ever expected, especially with him looking at her like she was the most cherished thing in the world. She was more than content to stay where she was.

What she had gone through was awful. He briefly wondered if she would ever tell him all of it. Staring into the bright blue eyes that even now held a bit of a shadow to them that had never been there before, he doubted it. It wouldn't be because she didn't want to talk about it. It would be because she wouldn't want to remind him, or anyone else, about her experience. He pressed his forehead to hers, ran a hand up and down her arm, not sure if he was trying to soothe himself or her, and replied with what he believed was the sweetest word in the entire world, "Trixie." They were caught like that for an endless moment, while the forest life began to stir around them, as well as the soft voices of the others at the edge of the small clearing. He didn't hear them. Neither did she. It was like they were all alone. Then he came to the quick realization that he was still on her and he pulled back. "Oh, God, Trix, I'm on top of you. Am I crushing you?"

Her curls didn't have their normal bounce to them when she shook her head. Her scalp was still stinging from the vicious tugs to it. "No," she responded raspily. "I'm fine. You're not hurting me. Really. I don't mind having you on top of…" She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. A ferocious flush blossomed across her cheek as she realized what, exactly, she had said, as well as how it could be interpreted.

He didn't catch the more sensual meaning, was brought back to the memory of what had happened when he caught a glimpse of the sprawling body not more than five feet away from them. It was a long minute before he moved to his knees, being careful not to hurt her, and slipped an arm around her waist. "All right, Trix. We'll take it a little at a time. I'll help you. Do you think you can you stand?" he asked softly, his green eyes studying her intently, looking for any sign of pain or weakness to her.

She wouldn't let the pain win, not when they had been able to go through hell and come out on the other side. Nodding, she let him help her up, wincing slightly with each movement, and doing her best to hide it but she couldn't fool him. He moved slower than normal, with extreme care. Her sore body screamed out a loud protest but she was able to stand, mostly on her own, and was extremely proud of herself for overcoming the pain. Her muscles ached. Her side ached. Her head ached but she didn't care. She was alive. It was almost surreal.

The weight of his arm around her waist was comforting, letting her know without words that he was there to support her. His presence helped, made her feel as if she really could beat the pain and function with moderate success on her own. Catching the presence of a lifeless hand only a few steps away, she choked back a gasp but couldn't resist and turned her fascinated eyes in the direction she really didn't want to look at. Wide-eyed, she stared at the man lying on his back, with blood all around him. It was the most horrifying thing she had ever seen in her entire life. Staring at it made her realize that the events had branded her for the rest of her life, whether she wanted to be affected by them or not. Choking back a sharp sob, she turned her head into his chest, squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to block out the picture, but it was ingrained in her mind, as surely as the events of the evening.

He circled away from the dead body, hoping to prevent her from looking in that direction again, and brought her with him. He laid his head on top of hers, all the while whispering nonsensical words of comfort into her ear. He made no move to let her go, kept her as close to him as he could, while the past few minutes kept replaying through his mind, knowing exactly what she was thinking. He doubted if he would ever be able to really forget about it, either. It seemed like the night would always be tugging at the edges of his mind. But, as she held on just as tightly, he realized something even more startling. As tainted of a memory as it was, and certainly one that neither one of them would ever enjoy, it was yet another memory that linked them together in the chain that he believed was proving to be unbreakable, that confirmed to him beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were meant to be together.

Neither was aware of the sudden flash of bright lights from the flashlights shining around them, turning the clearing from a velvety darkness into a scene that looked like it could have taken place during the bright light of day. Trixie blinked her eyes as a harsh beam of light cut through and past them, focusing on Britten, but it didn't register on her. She snuggled deeper into his arms. She knew that they would need to leave the area but all she wanted to do was to stay with him, uncertain if she had the energy to leave. Jim was in complete agreement. He wasn't in a hurry to leave, either.

Dan pointed out the two who seemed extremely content to stay within the comfort of each other's arms, almost as if they were doing their best to become one instead of two separate individuals. Hiding his own relief at finding both of his friends together and relatively unhurt, he turned to Brian and asked, with a playful tone to his voice that almost successfully masked his fear, "Think we should interrupt?" He hooked his thumb towards the two who were oblivious to the two officers who were examining the body only a few feet from them. "Or should we just leave the two of them alone?"

Brian's feet were glued to the spot. He couldn't respond, unable to believe that his sister had made it through and was all right. He couldn't tear his eyes off of her, felt memories upon memories of her from the time she was a toddler to the last time he had seen her that afternoon, flood over and through him. It was lovely and bittersweet at the same time, telling more of his love for his sister than any words could ever say. He felt a few tears sting his eyes that he resolutely blinked away and cleared his throat. Words still failed him.

Concerned by his quietness, Honey tentatively held onto his hand and gave it a small squeeze. She was relieved when Brian squeezed back. She didn't say anything at all, only wanted him to know that she was there for him. Then she glanced back at Trixie and Jim, understanding that the two had become bonded for life even more than they were before by what they had experienced together. She lifted her eyebrows, decided that it was time to hone in on the action, and propelled herself forward, ignoring the police officers who were coming out of the dark to talk with the sergeant. "Trixie! Jim!" she called out shrilly and then covered her mouth when they turned to face her. Both were bruised, battered and a bit bloody. She ran the few steps towards them and grabbed a hand from each, holding on tightly, forming a beautiful triangle that had been forged years before, in an ancient, ramshackle mansion, and her mouth fell into a perfect O of astonishment. "Oh, my," she finally said, feeling that she should have said something else, but unable to come up with anything that told them the varying emotions tumbling through her. She catalogued each of their hurts, from the bruise and cuts on Trixie's face and neck, to the bruises and blood on Jim's. "You're all right. Both of you. You're all right."

"Honey, you're here," Trixie murmured lowly. She squeezed Honey's hand but stayed next to Jim, taking the comfort of his body next to hers. She was finding it hard to believe that they were alive, that Britten had been defeated, and almost felt as if she was in some type of a dream. Everything seemed a little fuzzy around the edges. She gave her head a shake, which helped, but then her body started to shiver, whether from the cool night air or the freshness of the memories, she couldn't tell.

So in tune to her, he recognized it immediately. After running a hand down her bare arm, he realized just how cold she was. "You're freezing, Trixie," Jim commented, astounded that he hadn't picked up on it before. Without another word, he slipped off his jacket and laid it carefully onto her shoulders.

The effect was immediate and extremely welcome. She felt the warmness of the jacket, either from the recent heat of his body or the fact that the cool air had finally been cut off, and settled into the overly large jacket. It swam on her but she didn't care. She left it unzipped, not wanting to put her left arm in the armhole. She wasn't sure if she could handle the simple motion. Instead, she pulled the edges closer with her right hand. "Thanks," she whispered hoarsely.

He kept an arm loosely around her waist, his hand resting right below her sore ribs, unaware of the small amount of blood still trickling out from his own wound. He had actually forgotten about it, more concerned with her than himself. Already knowing where she hurt the most, he started massaging the area. "How did you get hurt?" he asked, his voice thick with unshed emotion.

She remembered her flight through the night with another shudder. "I wasn't watching where I was going," she admitted self-deprecatingly. It was hard to get the words out past the knot in her throat. She had to clear her throat before continuing. She motioned towards Britten but kept her back to him, unable to look at him again. "He…he was chasing me through the forest. I glanced back to see how close he was and I didn't pay attention to what I was doing. The next thing I knew I was rolling down an embankment and then I collided with a tree."

Honey paled even further at the tiny part of the tale that she knew absolutely nothing about. She threw her arms around her friend, pathetically grateful that Trixie had come out alive. When Trixie gave a small wince, she loosened her hold. "That's awful, Trixie," she whispered into her ear. "Just plain awful. How terrible for you."

About to respond, Trixie saw the two young men quietly joining them. She suddenly felt like the luckiest person in the world, to have so many people out there care about her and pursue her through her time in need. She had been wrong, she realized. The hopelessness of the situation had gotten the better of her. Through the entire escapade she had thought that that luck had not been her friend. Looking into the faces of the people she considered her family, whether they shared blood or not, she knew that she was the luckiest and most loved person ever. There wasn't any comparison. Then she saw only her brother. "Brian," she choked out when he opened his arms to her.

Brian cuddled her gently. He gave a small kiss to the top of her head, holding her lightly, and masking his own fury at the signs of abuse on her face. "Hey, Trixie," he greeted her in his quiet manner. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of her in his arms. He briefly thought about his promise to Mart and was extremely grateful that he was going to be able to keep it. "We've been looking for you for awhile now, Trix. I'm so glad that we finally found you."

Honey watched the two siblings embrace with a smile on her face. She turned to Jim, about to ask how he was holding up, when she saw the ugly gash on his arm. "Jim!" she exclaimed loudly, causing all eyes to turn to him. "What happened to you?" She moved in closer to examine the wound, frowning at the amount of blood on his sleeve. She pulled back the material of his sweatshirt, saw the jagged cut, and gasped. "Oh, Jim."

"It's not that bad, Honey." Jim gave her a reassuring smile. "As much as I hate to admit it, I lost the fight with him." Jim wouldn't say his name, practically spat out the word, 'him'. "He fought dirty, not that I expected anything different. He ended up surprising me and gave me this nice little parting gift with his knife. That's how I lost the fight."

Brian let go of his sister and joined Honey. He eyed the wound, noticed that it was just starting to congeal, and pulled off his sweatshirt. "We need to get this bandaged," he muttered, tearing off his shirt. It wasn't the best bandage in the world. He used his teeth to start the first tear and then he tore the shirt into strips. As soon as he was finished, he started bandaging the cut. It would definitely need stitches, he noted somberly to himself. A lot of stitches. As he checked out the length and depth of it, he also thought that it would leave a pretty impressive scar, when all was said and done.

"Ever the doctor," Trixie remarked from her new place in Dan's arms, and watched her brother at work, proud of his skill. She didn't like the wound and hated the fact that he had it, and all because of her. Then realization slowly dawned over her. If they were here then that meant… She glanced up expectantly at Dan. "Di?" she questioned, not needing to elaborate any further. Her hand fisted at her side as she waited for Dan to answer.

He understood how Jim had felt a few minutes earlier. He didn't want to let her go, either. Dan didn't ever want to admit how scared he had been. The minutes he had spent searching for her through the forest had been some of the very worst of his life and were ones that he never, ever wanted to go through again. "She'll be fine, Trixie," he informed her immediately. "She made it to the cabin. She's there with Mart watching over her right now."

"She made it to the cabin. She made it to the cabin. Thank goodness." Trixie dropped her head into her hand, unbelievable relieved, and turned around to face him. "Dan, I was so worried that she wouldn't be able to make it there. She didn't look like she was going to be able to stand on her own two feet much longer, let alone make a mile long hike to your place. I hated to send her off but it seemed like the only option."

"She's stronger than she thinks," Brian said, finishing tying the last of his shirt around Jim's arm and admiring the handiwork. There were already a few stains on the material but nothing that concerned him overly. Slipping back into his sweatshirt gratefully, he added, "I'll bet she has a concussion from the car accident. She's also in shock. She'll probably have to stay in the hospital overnight. I can't see them releasing her at all." If he was the doctor on call, he wouldn't let her go. He would most certainly keep her for observation.

Honey hadn't been able to take her eyes off of Brian, shirtless, in the middle of the night. Her shivers had nothing to do with the cold. When he was properly dressed again, she was able to start thinking. Then she thought about Di and what she had gone through. "Poor Di," she mumbled sympathetically, wishing that she was with Di, too. It wouldn't be long before they were all at the hospital, having the injured Bob-Whites taken care of. "Is she still at the cabin or has she gone to the hospital?"

Brian pointed off in the direction of the cabin. He could see the smoke from the fireplace and thought that it had been a stroke of luck for the pipe to have burst that afternoon, no matter what Mr. Maypenny may think about it. Without the bursting pipe, they would never have needed to start the fire. Without the fire, there wouldn't have been any smoke to lead Di to the cabin. He didn't want to consider what could have happened then. "It's rather late now. I have a feeling Mr. Maypenny has made it back from the wedding and that Mart and Di are probably at the hospital as we speak." He looked at Jim. "They would have taken your car. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." Jim stared down at his arm. The wound felt surprisingly better with the makeshift bandage on it. He imagined it would feel great once it was stitched up. He caught the way Trixie was still shivering and reached for the bottom of his jacket. "Here, Trixie. Keep your arm still. Let me zip you up."

For the first time Brian noticed that his sister wasn't moving as fluidly as she should. He watched, concerned, when she didn't put her left arm through the sleeve of the jacket and waited patiently for Jim to complete the mundane task of zipping up the jacket for her. "And what about you, Trixie?" he inquired carefully. "Call me crazy but I have a feeling I missed something else about this night."

"You're crazy." She gave him a small smile that was devoid of any humor and then pointed to her side. "I think I did something to my ribs, Brian. It's very sore here and I can't move all that well anymore."

He was at her side in an instant, watched with almost unconcealed humor when Jim seemed to be reluctant to give up his spot next to Trixie. But he took Jim's spot and then carefully slipped a hand under the jacket. Competent and knowledgeable fingers felt along her rib cage. He nodded when she cringed at his gentle touch. "An x-ray will tell us for sure but I'd say that you have certainly bruised a few ribs. There may be a couple of cracks, too. I don't feel any bones protruding outwards. That's good. You'll also be checked for any internal bleeding." He waited until she was looking at him before sharing the bad news. "You'll probably end up in the hospital for the night, too."

Trixie bit back a small, disappointed sigh and stared up at the sky. She didn't mind volunteering in a hospital but she absolutely despised having to stay in one as a patient. "I don't suppose there's any way we could simply go home, is there?" she asked hopefully, not really expecting an answer.

Sergeant Molinson cleared his throat, hating to interrupt their reunion. His shrewd gaze took them all in but he looked intently at Trixie. He decided against giving her a well-deserved lecture. At least she had tried to get in contact with the police before going off on her own, he thought with an inward sigh. That was an improvement. And she had the best of intentions. He had an odd suspicion that Diana Lynch wouldn't have fared so well against Britten. "There'll be an ambulance waiting for you back up at the road. It should be there by the time all of you make it back to your cars."

"Wonderful," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. An ambulance ride and a stay at the hospital. It seemed like a fitting end to a nightmare of an evening. She didn't argue but wasn't overly ecstatic about it.

He decided that he at least had a good chance of them following his next set of orders. "I think it would be best if all of you head back to the road." He motioned for an officer to come over. "Officer Shields here is going to lead you back, by the quickest and most direct route imaginable. Then you can head to the hospital, get taken care of, and talk to your families. I'm sure that they are besides themselves with worry by now." His next words were for Trixie and Jim. "I'll need your statements but not for a day or two. Take care and get some rest first."

"Sergeant Molinson." He stopped when Trixie called his name, looked back expectantly. She saw the tired lines on his face, realized how exhausted he must be, and felt a rush of gratitude for the sometimes prickly sergeant. No matter how gruff he as towards her, he really cared. "Thank you," she said simply, unable to come up with fancier words to express her appreciation for all that he had done for her.

He nodded at her. "My pleasure." And it had been. While he certainly wasn't in favor of killing people, it had given him a sense of dark enjoyment when he had seen Tilney Britten fall to the ground.

Officer Shields motioned for the Bob-Whites to follow him. Slowly, they began to do that. Jim made sure to position himself next to Trixie, not caring if it was obvious or not. No one commented on it. They all followed along quietly, content in the silence, and taking the long path that would lead them back to the road. Jim walked besides her, an arm wrapped around her waist, and ready to give her support should she need it. Her steps were much slower than the others, even with his help. It wasn't long before they were bringing up the back of the line. "You can do it," he whispered encouragingly to her when she came to a sudden stop.

She shook her head, watching the others move further ahead of them, and made no move to follow them. "I know. It's not all that easy for me but I'll be able to make it. It's not that, Jim." She looked around the woods and shivered, remembering how hopeless and scared she had been, only a short time ago. "It's just that…" She left the rest unsaid and shrugged a shoulder, giving a small, helpless laugh. "I don't know how to explain it. I feel…" She didn't finish the thought, unable to come up with a suitable word to describe her emotions.

They had more in common now than she knew. "I understand," he replied when she stopped talking. "Believe me, I do," he insisted strongly.

Frowning, she stared into his face. It took her a minute to make the connection but then she realized that he did know what she was talking about. His stepfather, she thought with a blinding force of insight. They had never talked about his years under his thumb. Trixie knew it hadn't been pretty, as did the rest of the Bob-Whites, but no one knew much about it, or its effect on Jim. As she stared into his eyes, she saw the same emotions she was feeling reflected briefly on his face. "Yes," she breathed out in wonderment. "You do." It made her feel less alone, less helpless, and gave her a great deal of hope. If Jim could deal with the trauma and move on, then she knew that she could, too.

His thumb traced her chin. He didn't have any choice but to end their conversation. "Come on, Trix. We can talk about that later. They're going to send out another posse if we don't catch up with them soon." She let him lead her on with only one backward glance into the dark, dark night. Shivering again, she held onto Jim's hand and followed him towards the others and the road.


	38. Chapter 37

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Thirty-Seven

"I guess I don't have much of a choice, huh?" Trixie muttered out loud, staring at her friends and her brother with a small frown tripping across her lips, when they made it back to the road. Her hand was still snug within Jim's. He gave it a small squeeze of encouragement, letting her know without words that he was there for her. She held on, grateful for his presence and his support, but her eyes didn't see anything else but the flashing lights of the still ambulance. She hated to do it, felt like she was giving in when all she wanted to do was get to the hospital of her own accord. It wasn't in her to be weak.

Understanding his sister well, already used to dealing with reluctant patients, Brian gave her a mollifying smile but too her over and led her over to the ambulance, not allowing her to protest any further. The others watched quietly from the edge of the dark gray asphalt. "Sorry, Trix," he apologized placatingly and tried to explain to her why it would help her out. "It's for the best. An ambulance will get you to the hospital much quicker than we would, plus they'll be able to help you with the pain you're feeling right now." When he saw her open her mouth to interrupt him, he put a finger on her lips. "Don't lie, Trix. You are hurting. Also, you'll get seen to immediately when you arrive, compared to if we drove you. If you came with us, you'd have to wait in the waiting room until a doctor was able to see you. It's also Saturday night, which is typically a very busy night at the ER." He knew that from his volunteer shifts at the hospital. There was nothing quite like a Saturday night in the emergency room. It was enough to give even the most composed medical professional a major headache.

Trixie found it within her to giggle. It wasn't much of a giggle but it felt good to laugh again. "All right, Dr. Belden. You've convinced me," she responded, giving in as gracefully as she could, understanding that she didn't have a choice. She met his dark eyes, worried her bottom lip, and suddenly seemed much younger than her eighteen years. "I'll see you there, right?" she asked quietly and hopefully.

He gave her a quick hug, being careful not to aggravate her sore side. "Of course, Trix. Everyone will be there for you. Moms, Dad, Mart, Bobby, and all of the Bob-Whites. We'll be able to find out more about Di, too." He looked off in the direction of the cabin. From the vantage point on the road, he could only see a small trail of smoke way off in the distance. He finally realized how far Di would have had to travel to make it to the cabin. "She's probably already there."

"What makes you say that?" Trixie wondered, doing her best to ignore the paramedic who was attempting to assist her onto a stretcher. She kept her back to her, staring at her brother, and put a small hand on his arm, prolonging the moment for as long as possible.

Brian bit back a small smile, realizing exactly what his sister was doing. A fighter to the bitter end, he thought fondly, and gave a nod of acknowledgement to the frustrated paramedic. "Neither Moms or Dad are here right now. One of them would be, if they hadn't run into Mart at the hospital." He knew that was the truth. Mart would have been able to give them some of the information and would have convinced them to stay there, instead of coming to Trey Road. They would be waiting for word on their other two children at the hospital.

Her response was cut off when the paramedic took a firm hold of her arm, not allowing Trixie to put it off any longer. With a small groan, Trixie reluctantly allowed herself to be placed on the stretcher, although the expression on her face told the others plainly how she really felt about the experience. It wasn't what she wanted. She looked at each them and found the strength to give them a smile. She saved Jim for last, saw how he was standing a little off from the group with his good hand stuffed into the front pocket of his jeans and his bandaged one resting across his stomach. She appreciated the encouraging nod he gave her and knew that he would be waiting for her, too. Then she was lifted up and placed into the ambulance.

Moving with a decided purpose, one that was not to be deterred even though she was intent on breaking a rule, Honey hurried over to the ambulance and swiftly climbed in behind Trixie, without asking the paramedics for permission. She wasn't going to follow along. She wanted to ride with Trixie. "Hi, Trix," she greeted her friend and sat down on her knees beside the stretcher. She held onto her friend's hand, a huge smile wreathing her face. "You don't have to worry. You're not going to be alone. I'm coming with you."

Trixie held onto her hand tightly. "Honey," she breathed out, happy to have her with her. It would have been a long and depressing ride without her friend. "Thanks for joining me." It was exactly what she needed, would make the ride much more enjoyable, and help her feel less in the limelight. She hated having a fuss made over her. The way she figured it an ambulance ride was about as large of a fuss as one could have made. Honey's presence would help make it seem a little more normal.

"Excuse me, miss," one of the paramedics said to Honey with a frown on her face. She shook her head and gave Honey a stern look, clearly telling the young lady that she wasn't pleased with their new rider. "You need to get out of the ambulance now. You can't ride with us."

Honey wasn't the daughter of a millionaire or an heiress to the combined Hart/Wheeler fortune for nothing. Pasting the best aristocratic look she could muster onto her face, she drew herself up to her full height, keeping Trixie's cold hand within her warmer one. Without allowing her voice to wobble, she declared, her voice strong and firm and not allowing for any objections at all, "Yes, I can. I'm not going anywhere but to the hospital."

The paramedic sighed, understanding that it would be pointless to argue with her. They needed to get going. Their patient needed assistance. "Are you family?" she asked, giving in and hoping that the girl would say yes.

"Of course," Honey replied without hesitation, telling herself that it wasn't a true lie, not really. Trixie was the sister of her heart, if not exactly a sister of blood. Allowing her normal soft, tactful smile to grace her face once again, she sat back down, her show of force over and done with. She smoothed a hand over Trixie's curls. "See, I'm not going anywhere, Trix. I'll ride with you."

Dan chuckled lowly when the back doors to the ambulance closed, blocking the sight of the two girls from their view. "Good for Honey," he said to no one in particular. Then he looked at the two men standing on either side of him. Knowing what he needed to do, he pointed towards his truck and hastily volunteered, "I'll head back to the cabin, check and see if Mart and Di are still there. If they are, I'll tell them what happened and make sure that they get to the hospital. If not, I'll be along as soon as I can fill Mr. Maypenny in on what happened tonight."

Jim didn't hear him, too busy watching the ambulance pull out, with Trixie and Honey inside. He fought the unexpected impulse to grin, astonished that he was actually able to find enjoyment in something so small. It had been amusing to witness Honey in action, to watch how she had forcefully entered the ambulance, without the paramedics' permission, and then how she had coolly lied and told them that she was Trixie's family. She was certainly astounding. And it was exactly what Trixie needed. "I'll ride with Brian," Jim announced suddenly after the ambulance turned a corner and was no longer in sight. Smile fading, he wished he could have been the one to have gone with Trixie. "We'll see you soon, Dan."

Dan gave them a small salute and raced towards his truck. It wasn't long before he was traveling down the road a bit faster than normal, eager to get to the cabin to find out how Mart and Di had fared during the past hour, and then move on to the hospital.

"Which car should we take?" Brian stared at the multitudes of vehicles at their disposal with his eyebrows raised high. The quiet country lane was literally littered with cars of all shapes, makes, colors and sizes. He pointed out their cars, counting them off on his fingers. "Let's see, Jim. We have the old trusty Bob-White station wagon, my mom's van, your mom's car, which doesn't get used that much, and, of course, Di's father's car." He peered closer at that particular one, saw the way the hood was crinkled in from where it was wedged up against a tree and that the two front tires had flattened. Totally tongue-in-cheek, he decided sardonically, "I think we can safely scratch that one off the list. It's not leaving here without a tow truck."

"Let's go with the station wagon," Jim answered hastily, unable to believe the amount of cars on the road. He counted at least ten, finding it hard to believe that so many people had come immediately to help out in the search for Trixie, whether they knew her or not. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Sleepyside was the best place in the world to live. "Trey Road will never see this many cars on it again."

"I doubt if any of us will ever want to drive on this road ever again," Brian responded with a blinding insight. He paused and stared back into the dark woods where he could just make out the voices of the police officers if he strained really hard, thinking about all that had transpired out there. "I know I don't have any desire to ever set foot, or wheel, on this particular patch of asphalt."

Jim followed Brian's gaze but he didn't see the dark of the woods, broken only by the occasional bob of a flashlight off in the distance. Instead, the chilling scene he had come across flashed vividly through his mind, haunting him. Closing his eyes didn't block it out. He could still see Trixie, at the mercy of that despicable bastard, lying on the ground with the knife at her throat and a look of sheer terror on her face. Somehow he knew that sleep was going to be an impossible feat for him to accomplish for a very, very long time to come. The jingle of the car keys snapped him out of his reverie.

Brian pulled the keys out of his pocket and moved quickly to the station wagon, unaware that Jim was lagging behind. He wanted to get to the hospital as soon as possible, to find out all the medical information that he could on his sister and on Di. "I'm glad that Dan volunteered to head back to the cabin," he told him conversationally. "I don't know about you but I want to get to the hospital now."

Jim took his seat and settled in with a grateful groan, feeling relaxed for the first time in well over an hour. He could almost see the tension roll off of his sore body in waves. "Yeah," he agreed lowly, using his left hand to awkwardly snap his seatbelt in. It took longer than normal, unused to doing that action with his other arm. He studied his wound briefly, wondered how many stitches it was going to take to sew it up, and then sighed. "It'll be good for Di to get to the hospital. She needed to get checked out as soon as possible. It was a shame that Mart couldn't have brought her to the hospital right away."

"We had to have someone at the cabin in case Trixie actually made it there. You, me and Dan had to go in search of her. There wasn't any other choice," Brian responded calmly as he carefully put on his seatbelt and started the car. After maneuvering around the two police cars parked next to them, he made it to the road. This time he drove much more cautiously and well within the speed limit, taking his time. The horrible sense of urgency was gone. Trixie was safely on her way to the hospital and all was as well as it could be with his world. "There's still a lot I'm curious about," he shared with Jim after a brief moment of silence. "I have a lot of questions that are begging to be answered about this entire fiasco."

"Me, too. The first thing I want to know is how Di, and then Trixie, ended up on Trey Road in the first place. Why there? What happened?" Jim dropped his head against the back seat and closed his weary eyes. There were many more questions swirling through his mind but he didn't think he would get too many answered tonight, predicting that both Trixie and Di would be sound asleep in their hospital beds by the time anyone got to see them, with the sleep either brought on by their own mental and physical exhaustion or with the assistance of painkillers. Opening one eye, he wondered aloud, "Are you going to call your parents?"

Brian thought for a moment and then shook his head. "I should call them, I know that, but I don't think I'm going to." A small flush of embarrassment crossed his face. It was an unusual experience for him. He couldn't remember the last time he had blushed. Clearing his throat, he explained haltingly, "You see, Jim, I had a chat with my mother and my father when we were out searching for Trixie in the woods. They were both rather distraught, as you can guess, since they couldn't get in touch with any of us and had been trying to for well over an hour. It didn't help them to know that we were all out looking for Trixie. I don't think I made matters better for them. In fact, I think they are going to be absolutely furious with me." He hesitated before adding lowly, ashamed at himself, "I hung up on my dad when he was trying to ask me questions. Then I turned off my cell phone."

"Ouch." Jim studied Brian through slitted eyes, shocked that his normally reliable friend would have done something so out of character. Desperate times, though, he realized with a fatalistic shrug, and hoped that the Beldens would understand Brian's position. It hadn't been a good one. "Interesting, Brian. I'll bet you're right. It's probably not the best idea to call them on the phone right now. It may be better to see them in person."

"Tell me about it." Brian wasn't looking forward to the confrontation. At least he had a sister to return to them who was alive with only a few minor injuries. He resolutely shook away his fears and focused on Jim. Gesturing at his bandages, he returned the question, "What about you, Jim? Are you going to call your parents?"

"Can't." He held his hands out. It wasn't something he wanted to tell them over the phone. Arching an eyebrow, he realized they wouldn't be happy to hear about it, either, especially when they had only just returned home that morning. "Trixie still has my cell phone." Although he knew he could borrow Brian's cell in a heartbeat, he didn't ask for it. He simply didn't have the energy to talk about it with his parents. They were going to be really worried that he was on his way to the emergency room for stitches. They certainly weren't going to be ecstatic when they found out why. He could accurately predict what their reaction was going to be. His mother was going to cry while his father would turn bright red before his famous red-headed temper got the better of him. Matthew Wheeler was going to be absolutely furious with one Tilney Britten for what he had done to his son and his daughter's closest friends. "Yeah, I figure I'll let Honey take care of that for me, once we reach the hospital. She'll be able to soothe them better than I can." He wouldn't make a habit but he decided that he could hide behind his sister, just this once. She was much more tactful than he was.

Brian stopped talking and focused on the road, needing to find out all that had happened in the woods, but almost too damn scared to ask. As the silence lengthened between them and the scenery turned from quiet trees to more and more houses neatly lining the road, he finally found the courage to discover the last part of the tale. "So, how bad was it?" Brian felt a muscle starting to work on the side of his neck. He kept his eyes straight ahead while he waited with baited breath for the answer, still not certain if he really and truly wanted to know.

Jim slumped back in the seat, rubbed a hand over his face, as the memories came back at him once again, assaulting him with an unpleasant force. They were the stuff that nightmares were made of. They certainly weren't enjoyable, had the power to scare the absolute hell out of him, even though the danger had passed and everything had turned out in a mainly positive way. When he thought about what could have happened, his blood started to run cold. "It was bad," he eventually remarked, his voice low and rough, and praying that Brian would leave it at that but knowing that he wouldn't be able to, not when his sister had been a victim.

Brian's fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter while his dark eyes turned even darker. "You'll have to tell me, Jim. I need to know and my parents will want to know, once they stop glaring at me."

Jim closed his eyes in resignation. He could still see it all. It had such an awful power over him, still had the ability to make him scared and terrified and frightened, all at once. His voice sounded like it came from far off as he replied slowly, thinking about the look on Trixie's face when he had watched her from the safety of the boulder, just biding his time until he could join in the battle for her life, "Do you want to hear how he had a knife to her throat or a gun under her chin?"

He released a short, four-lettered word that had him feeling minutely better and drew his body up straighter. "You have got to be kidding me."

"I'm not." Jim started to tell Brian what he had seen, his words slow and purposeful, from the time he had come across the two grappling on the ground to the very end. By the time he had finished, he wasn't feeling the levels of relaxation and comfort he had experienced when he had first climbed into the car. He was back to square one: helpless anger. The knot in his stomach seemed to have grown to twice its size. "So that's about it, Brian. At least, that's what happened at the end." Then he thought about the beginning and the middle of the evening. There was more, much more, and he had a strong suspicion that the rest would only make him feel even more helpless and agonized. He shared his thoughts with Brian. "But keep in mind, Brian, we still don't know much about what happened before then. I can only tell you about the ending. Di will have to tell us more, if she's able to. Trixie, well, I have a strong feeling she's not going to want to discuss it at all with us. We may get a few things out of her, such as how she figured out the identity of the stalker and how she found Di, but she'll keep the worst to herself. She won't want to scare us anymore than she has to. We'll be lucky if she gives a full report to Sergeant Molinson."

Brian's face was absolute white. The words Jim had shared had painted a horrible picture in his mind, bringing to mind a new level of pure and total hell. He wondered briefly how he was going to tell his parents without sending either of them into cardiac arrest. It wasn't going to be fun or pretty. Then he contemplated his friend as the meaning of his last words sank in. Jim had hit the nail on the head. She wouldn't tell them all, not if she could help it. Keeping one eye on the road and the other on Jim, Brian came to the full realization of the undeniable connection Jim had with his sister. He had never realized how complete it was. It would be odd, he thought to himself, to have his best friend dating his sister, but he could tell that would be coming, in the end. Then he had to give a dry, inward chuckle at himself, when he realized that he would most likely be placing Jim in the exact same position.

They made it to the hospital in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, and parked in the nearly full parking lot. Brian recognized many of the cars. "Mart and Di are here," he announced suddenly. He pointed to Jim's Pathfinder, which was parked at a slant, taking up two full parking spaces. "Mart must not have been concentrating on parking your car. You're lucky they don't give out parking tickets here or call tow trucks for that," he said, attempting a joke.

Jim gave him a wry smile, appreciating the effort. Then he followed Brian to the emergency room entrance. They stood on the threshold of the waiting room, surprised when there wasn't a single soul to greet them. Both had been expected to be rushed by either Bob-Whites or family members. Neither had once considered that the room would be quiet. The only other people inside the overly bright room were a young mother holding a toddler with an extremely flushed face on her lap. "It's surprisingly empty for a Saturday night," Jim remarked before heading over to the nurse at the registration desk.

After completing his paperwork, Jim sat down on one of the uncomfortable waiting room seats, staring down at his arm. The flow of blood seemed to have stopped. He wasn't looking forward to the next hour or so, imagining how pleasurable it was not going to be to have the make-shift bandages torn off, as well as having the wound thoroughly cleaned and disinfected and then stitched up. It promised to be quite painful. "It's unusually quiet in here. Where do you think everyone is?" Jim wondered aloud.

"We're upstairs. We just finished talking to Honey. She came in the ambulance with Trixie, but I'm sure you two know that," Peter Belden broke in from behind the two. "We haven't been able to see Trixie yet. They brought her right up to get an X-ray. Honey found us immediately. She filled us in on a few things but didn't want to tell us all of it. She said that you will do that. I think she was going to call your parents too, Jim."

Brian snapped to attention, silently cursing again, and not hearing a word his father said. He looked forward, not wanting to face the music, but he couldn't stay that way for long. He stood up slowly and turned around, no expression on his face, and waited for his father to begin.

Peter surprised him further by pulling his eldest into a strong embrace. "Thank God you made it here, safe and sound, Brian. We were so worried about you, about everyone. You can't begin to even imagine what it was like for your mother and I to sit here and to not be able to do anything." Then he got a good look at Jim's face. He saw the bruises and dried blood, as well as the bandage on his forearm. He had a minute to hope that Trixie looked better than Jim but, glancing at their solemn faces, he somehow doubted it. "What happened to you?"

"Knife," Jim responded curtly, slowly gauging how Peter would take that news.

He paled a bit but, already having the knowledge that Trixie had been admitted and was in the process of getting X-rays, without any other wounds reported to him, he couldn't let it bother him. Too much. There would be time for that later, when he was home. He would have the rest of his life to worry about what could have happened. Needing to sit down before his legs gave out from underneath him, he carefully took the seat next to Brian. "So," he began seriously, "how much of this story are we going to be able to tell your mother?"

The two younger men stared at each other, shocked the Peter was echoing their words from the car ride. "Where is she, Dad?" Brian asked, glancing around, and sidestepping the simple question, when he still wasn't sure how much he wanted his father to know.

"She's with Mart, Bobby, the Lynches and Honey, too, up on the second floor. That's where Di and Larry are. I also believe that Trixie will be placed on that floor, once she completes her X-rays. Larry just came out of surgery, so Bobby wanted to visit him. He broke his ankle today at the baseball game, which is why we were here instead of at home. It was a compound fracture," he put in at their confused looks, almost chuckling at how much information he was throwing out at them. "Mart is stuck like glue to Di's door. I don't think they're letting her have visitors yet. She was pretty shook up from the car accident and everything but you two know that. She's definitely in shock. I think they're waiting on the results from her CT scan."

Brian leaned forward, finding it odd that so much had happened in only a few short hours. There was one thing to be grateful for, at least. They wouldn't have to worry about the stalker anymore. He met his father's eyes and said, "Well, we'll tell you what we know of the story, Dad, and let you decide how much to tell Moms. We don't know it all yet but we can fill in some of the gaps, at least."

By the time the second retelling was finished, Peter had made up his mind. He would share it all with Helen, once they got home. Although it was his first impulse to keep her in the dark on most of the happenings, he knew he couldn't do that to her. She deserved to know the truth. But, until they got home, he would only share the barest of minimums. The discussion about knives and guns wouldn't be mentioned until then. He clapped his son on his shoulder and then ruined it with a small reprimand, "Next time, Brian, don't hang up on me. And definitely don't turn off your cell phone ever again."

Brian pulled out his cell phone and turned it on. His lips turned down at the corners when he saw that he had eight messages waiting for him. "All from you, Dad?"

"And your mother," Peter interjected. "We took turns calling you. We weren't very happy with your decision to turn your phone off."

Brian flipped his phone closed and put it back in his pocket. "You should have seen Dan, Dad, when he came across us. He was ticked off at Honey and I for talking so much when we were searching through the woods. If I had used my cell phone one more time, he probably would have taken it and chucked it into the bushes or stomped on it until it was in tiny pieces." It would have been amusing, if the situation hadn't been so dire. Brian released a loud sigh. "At least everything's turned out as well as it could."

The door opened and a nurse poked her head out through the doorway. "James Frayne?" she called out expectantly.

Jim glanced around, wondered when the toddler and her mother had been called back, and stood up, his face stoic, while he prepared himself for the next few minutes. "I'll come find you when they're finished with me. Upstairs, right?" He didn't expect them to wait for him. They would be waiting upstairs, next to Trixie's room, hopefully inside and visiting her. At Brian's nod, he started the long walk back, not anticipating the upcoming process in the least.

Peter leaned back in his seat, scrubbed a hand over his tired face, and felt completely and utterly defeated. "What a night, Brian." It had been the most agonizing few hours of his entire life. He imagined a whole new set of gray hairs had cropped up on his head. While his daughter had certainly put him through some hair-raising experiences, he couldn't ever remember a night like tonight. It had to have been the worst ever. Treating his eldest like an equal, he shared hoarsely, "Your mother and I have been kicking ourselves for letting Trixie go in to work today. We haven't stopped wishing that we had gone with our first instincts and made her stay home, instead of allowing her to drive to the Country Club. If she had come to the baseball game with us then she wouldn't have gone through that horrible experience tonight. She definitely wouldn't be here as a patient."

"I can imagine. But, if you had done that, maybe Di wouldn't be upstairs with only a concussion. Maybe she wouldn't be here at all," Brian remarked insightfully, shuddering at what could have happened to their friend if Trixie hadn't been around. It was a horrible thing to contemplate but it was absolutely true. "We don't know what could have happened if Trixie hadn't been there to help her break free from Britten. No one else had a clue that Di was in danger. I don't think we should play devil's advocate, Dad. What's done is done. I think it would be best if we dealt with the consequences and moved on from here."

One of her biggest joys was helping out others, even at the expense of her own pain. Steepling his fingers under his chin, Peter contemplated the thought, analyzing it from all angles, and eventually came to accept that his son was correct. It made him feel less guilty but it still couldn't take away his own worry about the suffering that his daughter had gone through. A parent always felt their child's pain. "Well, let's check with the desk and see if we can find anything out about Trixie." He glanced at his watch, noticed the time, and grimaced. Helen was probably pacing the floor, wondering where he was. "She should be out of X-ray by now and into her room. Maybe they will let her have visitors now. I can't wait to see her."

"If she's able to have visitors, they'll only let her have one at a time," Brian informed him before he put a hand on his father's arm, bringing him to a halt. He swallowed hard before beginning, "Dad, there's probably something you should know before you see Trixie." He wanted to warn his father ahead of time, to have him prepared for what he would see on her face.

"I'm already ready," Peter responded with a deep sigh, figuring out what his son was trying to tell him. When Brian stared at him in surprise, he shrugged a shoulder. "I came to the conclusion when I saw Jim's face. He's rather bruised up from fighting Britten. She doesn't look much better, does she?" He thought about his little girl and what had happened to her. He wished Sergeant Molinson was there so that he could shake his hand for killing the son of a bitch who had dared to hurt his princess.

"Not really, Dad. She has a pretty good sized bruise on her face, as well as some other cuts." Brian had a hard time looking into his father's face. He had never seen such complete and utter fury cross it before. "You'll want to tell Moms, too. She won't want to go into Trixie's room without knowing."

He put an arm around his son's shoulder and started towards the desk where the nurse checked on the information for one Beatrix Belden. They were supplied with her room number on the second floor and told that she had just been admitted to it. "Thank you," Brian said respectfully before they turned to leave.

On their way to the elevator they met Dan as he hurried into the hospital. "Hey," Dan called out, rushing towards the two Beldens. He was slightly out of breath from running the entire way across the parking lot. After having a quick talk with a very confused and worried Mr. Maypenny, as well as talking with his uncle, who had been waiting for him at the cabin. Then he had driven to the hospital as fast as he possible could in order to catch up on what he had missed. "What's going on? What have I missed so far?"

Brian quickly caught him up to date, feeling like they were characters in some horrendous soap opera. "Trixie's upstairs, in her room. Di's in her room, too. Larry broke his ankle, is out of surgery, and is also upstairs." Motioning towards the emergency room, he noted, "Jim's in there, probably in some serious pain right now, while they clean, stitch up and bandage his wound."

"Well, I would say that the inhabitants of Glen Road are keeping the hospital hopping tonight," he replied, straight-faced, trying for some levity.

Peter gave a small smile at the attempt, grateful for it more than words could say. "We're on our way up to see if they'll let us in to see Trixie or Di yet. Do you want to come, Dan?" he offered.

Dan glanced back at the emergency room, thinking that Jim wouldn't have anyone waiting for him, and came to a quick decision. "I'm going to get some coffee first. It's been one hell of an evening," he put in meaningfully. "Then I think I'll wait down here for Jim, at least until his family comes. He should have someone waiting on him, too. I'll be up as soon as I can."

"He'll appreciate that," Brian responded knowingly. "We'll see both of you upstairs. It wasn't too busy in the ER tonight so he'll get done quicker than normal. I wouldn't be surprised if you're upstairs sooner than you think." The elevator doors opened with their trademark whoosh. Glancing back at Dan, he stepped in.

Dan waited until the doors closed, effectively blocking them from his sight, and then he headed towards the cafeteria to buy a cup of coffee for himself before settling down to wait on one of the many injured Bob-Whites. He sat back and watched the clock, taking a fortifying sip of his black coffee, and pictured what was happening to Jim right now. The recipient of more than a few stitches in his life, he knew that it was going to be painful.


	39. Chapter 38

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Trixie tucked the edges of the pristine white blanket under her arms, nervously playing with the edges of it as she took in the room that was to be hers for the night. It was small and private, with only the one hospital bed in it, for which she was very grateful. It felt much better to be alone than to have to share a room with a stranger. The lone window was covered with a light blue curtain, not letting in any light from the outside, although she knew it to be very late at night. The walls themselves were the same shade of light blue. The color should have been comforting, would have been in any place other than a hospital. The only light came from the overhead lighting above the sink in the room. Sighing lightly, Trixie leaned back against the thin pillows and closed her eyes, her weary mind beginning the slow process of shutting down. Surprisingly, there weren't any visions of the evening playing out for her own morbid entertainment. Instead, she saw the relaxing darkness that only sleep could promise. The powerful painkiller the nurse had given her was starting to take effect, chasing away her aches, and bringing the promise of sleep with it. She could almost feel it working its way up her limbs.

The door opened quietly, then the gentle sound of footprints. Her eyelids were already starting to feel like they weighed a ton but she managed to slit an eye open, and glanced towards the door. Her mother was framed in the darkened doorway, with a smile on her face that was both relieved and pained at the same time. "Moms," she whispered hoarsely. It took a superhuman effort but she was able to reach a hand out towards her mother who hurried towards the bed, the overwhelming need to see her mother momentarily beating out the need for sleep.

Three long strides and she was at her daughter's bedside. She looked smaller, as if the bed would swallow her whole. "Hello, Trixie," Helen responded, just as hoarsely, with a wealth of unspoken meaning behind her short greeting. She took hold of her daughter's hand and held on as tightly as she could, doing her best to cover her gasp at the sight of the colorful bruise and scratches that crisscrossed across her face. She couldn't stop herself from looking at them and cataloguing them, experiencing a burst of hatred so strong and vile for the man responsible. She rather wished she could have taken care of the man herself.

Trixie's lips curled up at the corners in a pitiful attempt at a smile, correctly guessing what her mother was seeing. She, herself, hadn't had a chance to look in the mirror yet. It was something she wasn't looking forward to. She had a very strong imagination. "Moms, I look that good?" she asked, trying to make her mother smile again and failing immensely.

"Let's not worry about how you look," Helen replied curtly, smoothing a hand over the tangled curls on Trixie's head, proud when her hand didn't shake all that much. Then she gingerly tilted Trixie's chin up, gazed directly into her eyes, and gave her the smile that her daughter needed desperately to see. She declared fiercely, with emotion clogging her throat, "You look wonderful to me, Trixie. You're here and you're alive. That's all that matters to me. Everything else is only a little bit of a nuisance. Knowing you, and I know you very well, you'll heal in no time, and find yet another way to court disaster." A small smile graced her face, taking the slight sting out of her words.

It was just what she needed. The truth of them made her laugh and cry at the same time. The laugh was cut short, since it hurt her ribs too much. Then the tears started to flow copiously out of her eyes, stinging her cuts and wetting her cheeks, and chasing away the short burst of humor, until all she could remember was the fact that she had broken her promise to her mother. Looking into the caring and understanding eyes made her cry even more. "I'm sorry, Moms. I'm so very sorry," Trixie got out, doing her best to not weep as hard as she wanted to. She had to work hard to get her emotions under control, unable to stand the renewed pain in her side that came with each hitching breath.

Helen moved in as close as the bed frame would allow. "Shh, shh, shh, baby," she crooned back, carefully wiping the salty tears away in the exact same way she had done when Trixie had been a young child. Back then, Trixie had been quick to cry when the situation warranted it but her tears had always ended soon after they started. This time was much different and it scared her more than she wanted to admit to herself. It was like the wound went much deeper than a skinned knee from a fall off of her bike or a playful tease from Mart that hadn't gone so well. Helen gathered her daughter as closely as she could, her arms sliding around Trixie's shoulder and gently lifting her up, doing her best to keep her hold light and loose, all the while murmuring soft words that only mothers know how to say. She didn't attempt to talk Trixie into ending the tears, knowing somehow that it would be better for her to get the sadness out and over with. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Trix. Absolutely nothing," she declared when it seemed that Trixie was nearly finished.

Trixie wiped away one last tear and sniffled, burrowing her head against her mom's strong shoulder. "Yes, I do, Moms," she protested with as much strength as she could. "I broke my promise to you. I promised that I would drive straight to Honey's house after work." Fanning her hands out in supplication, she admitted, in case her mother hadn't figured it out, "I didn't do that, Moms. I didn't go to Honey's."

Helen had a pretty good idea just why Trixie had broken her promise. She had seen Mart burst through the doors to the emergency room with a bruised and crying Di before she had been seen by a doctor. Their shocking arrival had stopped Peter from speeding over to Trey Road to find out what was happening to their children. "I'm not angry with you, Trixie. Far from it. If you must know, I'm very proud of you." It was difficult but she swallowed past the large lump that seemed to have taken up residence in her throat. "But, if it will help you feel better, can you tell me why you didn't go right to the Manor House?"

Trixie gave one last sniffle. Her eyes were now swollen and red-rimmed. She somehow found the courage to look her mother directly in the eye but she couldn't bring herself to say Tilney Britten's name. Instead, she used the simpler pronoun, finding it much easier to say. It almost made him seem like less of a person. "He…he sent Di a text while we were working. He pretended it was from her mother. He told her that she needed to pick up her brothers at the Easterly's house on Trey Road after work. We didn't question it." Her voice became softer while she started to recall the events. How Trixie wished that they had looked closer at the text. If only they had examined the text, they would have been able to see that it came from an unknown number. But, she realized with a fatalistic shrug, if only wasn't a game they had the luxury of playing now.

Shaking her head, Trixie resolutely put the "what if's" behind her and forged on with her explanation. "Di left the Country Club right at nine. I stayed behind to answer a phone call from a member. Then you called and told me what happened at the baseball game and where all of you were." She hated to admit it but said lowly, "I didn't catch on to the fact that the text had to have been a fake until I was in the car, right at the end of the parking lot and ready to turn onto Glen Road." She inhaled sharply and added harshly, "That's when I knew something was wrong."

"Why didn't you call for help?" Helen laced their fingers together, hoping that Trixie would draw strength from her. She didn't really care about the answer but she knew with a mother's unfailing intuition that Trixie needed to discuss it.

"I couldn't call anyone, Moms." Trixie lay back against the pillow, holding onto her mother's hand. She had a second to process how warm and strong her mother was before she recalled the events that led up to her part in the evening. "I had left Jim's cell phone in the pocket of my jacket in our break room. He must have taken out the battery from the cell when I was working, which is when I knew that something was terribly wrong. The cell didn't work."

"All you knew was that Di was in trouble," Helen supplied for her, knowing her daughter extremely well. She held Trixie's hand. "And you had to go and help her."

"Yes." Trixie agreed without hesitation, her eyes direct and honest with her mom's. "I came upon the car accident right away. It probably happened about ten or fifteen minutes before I got there. I saw Di's car and an unknown car. Luckily, Di had dropped her phone in her car. I was able to use it before the battery died. I called the police, Honey and Mart."

But not me or your father, Helen thought with an inward sigh. "Good thinking," she praised her instead. "I'm glad that you tried to get help for Di." She wondered briefly why Honey hadn't answered her myriad of her phone calls to the Manor House but then realized that Honey wouldn't have known what to tell her. Sometimes it was difficult to be understanding but Helen knew she needed to rise above her own hurt and confusion.

Whether it was the powerful painkiller or the mental and physical exhaustion of the night finally catching up with her, Trixie's eyes started to flutter close. She had difficulty holding them open. "I'm sorry, Moms. I wouldn't have broken my promise if it wasn't for a good reason," she said, her voice sounding like it was coming from somewhere far away.

"Helping out one of your oldest friends is definitely a good reason." Helen leaned forward and kissed her daughter's forehead. She saw how Trixie's eyes were starting to droop and the valiant effort it was for her to try and keep them open. She smiled down into her daughter's face. "You have nothing to apologize for, Trixie. I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you, Moms." A relieved smile played across her lips seconds before she let the much-needed sleep claim her and help start the healing process. It was a relief to fall back into the darkness, to let the night become a memory and to achieve a dreamless sleep. "Love you," were her last spoken, mumbled words.

"I love you, too, Trixie," Helen whispered back. When she saw that her daughter was fast asleep, she sat down a chair and covered her face with her hands, finally letting her own tears fall. It was much harder for her to contain her weeping. It was rough and raw and didn't make her feel any better in the least.

Peter came up behind her on extremely quiet feet. He draped an arm over her shoulder, holding on while his wife wept, and looked at their daughter peacefully slumbering away. Although he thought he had been prepared to see the results of Britten's handiwork on her face, he realized he hadn't been. The vibrant purpling bruise; the red, raw scratches; the smaller cut at her neck; they all had the power to render him the most furious he had ever felt in his entire life. When he thought how close she had come to death, his entire face went white. "How is she, Helen?" he murmured, gently massaging her tense shoulders.

Helen's head snapped back. "Peter. Thank God you're here." She gripped his hand as hard as she could and looked up at him with eyes that were just a little bit sad, just a little bit lost. She took a series of deep breaths to calm herself down. When she was relatively certain that she could speak, Helen answered lowly, "Trixie will be fine. She only fell asleep a few second ago."

"The sleep will be good for her, probably even better than the medicine." Peter wanted to concentrate on the positives, not on what could have happened. It was the only way he figured he could deal with the aftermath.

Helen gave him a watery smile, a bit at odds. While it was a relief to not have to worry about the stalker anymore, the price had almost been too high for all involved. She doubted if the effects of the night would ever be that far from her mind. "She was most concerned about breaking her promise to me. She feels terrible about not going to Honey's."

"She certainly paid for it." Peter sighed, imagining the wrapping that would be around the ribs. Mainly bruised with three fractured ribs. It promised to be a bit of a painful recovery for her. She would be feeling the effects of the evening for a long time to come. "I saw the doctor on the way in," he interjected. "He told me you were in here and then gave me the okay to come in with you for a few minutes."

"He told you?" she questioned, watching his nod. "She'll be out of school for the next week, too. He wants her to be checked out by Dr. Ferris at the end of the week. If Dr. Ferris says it'll be all right, then she'll be able to return to school on the Tuesday after Memorial Day." That meant no prom for Trixie, not Helen thought that missing it would not be a huge deal. She could picture Trixie's half-hearted shrug in her mind. She knew her daughter hadn't been all that excited about attending it, anyway.

"That's about what I figured." Peter hadn't been told the rest; had merely anticipated it. She would be in too much pain to attend school and her mobility wouldn't be all that stellar for the next few days. "We'll get in touch with the school on Monday, tell the principal what happened. I'm sure the teachers will have some assignments for her to complete before she returns to school." He had to grin, almost laughed. Trixie would appreciate the school work. "At least she'll have a lot of willing tutors to help her, if she needs any assistance."

Helen could see the humor in it, too. Trixie, home from school for a week, with a pile of homework to do. It was going to drive their daughter insane. "I think the Lynches said that Di will only be out for Monday. She should be able to return on Tuesday, according to her doctor," Helen put in conversationally.

"That's good for Di." Peter put his hands on top of Helen's shoulders and squeezed them tightly. "What a night. Larry had surgery for a broken ankle. Di has a concussion from a car accident. Trixie has broken ribs and Jim is downstairs having a bad cut stitched up." Shaking his head, remembering Dan's comments, he came to the conclusion that the younger man was right. "Dan certainly hit the nail on the head. Glen Road is definitely keeping the hospital busy tonight."

Helen didn't hear anything beyond the fact that Jim was in the emergency room. The room seemed to tilt as she held onto the sides of the chair, almost as if she was afraid she would fall out of it if she let go. What was left of the color in her face slowly drained out. She stared at Trixie, who was sleeping soundly, focused on her own breathing, and asked haltingly, "Peter, what is this about Jim? He's here, too? How did he get the cut?" Lord help her, she already knew the answer. Jim would do just about anything for their girl.

"He was doing the best that he could to save Trixie." Peter took a deep breath and held up a hand, warding off the million and one questions that were ready to come his way. He didn't want to go into it now. He wanted to wait until they were in the safe confines of their home, where Helen could safely release any feelings that she had left without anyone to witness her emotional breakdown. "I'll tell you the rest of it when we get home, Helen. It's a long story. Right now, let's just be thankful that all of our children and their friends are basically fine. They may be injured but we're lucky. The injuries will heal."

Helen wanted to protest but, when her husband got that steely look to his eyes, she knew better than to argue. "All right," she finally agreed, giving in as gracefully as she could even though she wanted to know everything that he knew now, and then turned back to study their daughter. "Will Jim be fine?" she questioned in a small voice.

"He'll need a few stitches to take care of it." More than a few, judging by the size of the makeshift bandage on his arm, but he didn't share that suspicion. He breathed in deeply, realizing how close they had come to having something completely horrible and practically unfathomable happening. Clearing his throat, he continued hoarsely, "What he's going through in the emergency room isn't going to be all that enjoyable but he'll be okay, once it's all done. Brian thinks he'll have a pretty good scar after it heals."

She let the newest information sink in, wondering how many more tidbits she would discover before everything was all said and done. She eyed Peter out of the corner of her eye, decided that he was right. She didn't want to hear anything else, not until they were safely ensconced behind the stretchy walls of Crabapple Farm. "Have you seen Di since she came back from her CT scan?" She asked aloud after a minute of silence. "I caught a glimpse of her when she was being brought up her room. She was already sleeping. Poor thing. She looked exhausted, too."

"No, I haven't seen her since Mart brought her into the ER." Peter gave another small sigh. He thought about his middle son, who had looked like he had aged quite a bit in the time since he had left their home earlier that afternoon. Mart's blue eyes had looked much older than his nearly nineteen years and much sadder. He glanced towards the hallway, pursing his lips. He hadn't seen Mart in the hallway when he had come up with Brian. Honey had greeted them but not Mart. "Has Mart left her door yet?"

"Only when the doctor came to talk to us about Trixie. He'll be by soon to visit Trixie if I don't miss my guess. He's probably chomping at the bit to get in here and see for himself that she's all right." She glanced up at the clock, allowed her lips to pull up into a smile. The devotion the two almost-twins shared couldn't be denied, although the two certainly did their best to hide it. "He won't be able to make it much longer. I'll bet he'll interrupt us soon." She settled back into a comfortable silence, one hand holding Trixie's and the other resting in her husband's strong grasp.

It wasn't two minutes later before there was a soft knock on the door; then a familiar blonde-haired head poked through. "Moms, Dad," Mart called out quietly. He hated to interrupt his parents, had waited as patiently as he could, but the need to see that his sister was alive was becoming stronger with each passing minute. "The nurse won't let me in unless you two come out. She said she has already broken protocol by letting both of you stay in and visit at the same time. She absolutely refused to let me in." He had tried to persuade her, had used all the possible words of flattery that he had in his arsenal, but all to no avail. She wouldn't budge. She wouldn't let him in until his parents came out. "Is it okay for me to come in yet?"

Helen and Peter shared an amused look, both aware that their son was as impatient as his sister. It was one of the many traits that they shared in common, despite the fact that neither would ever admit it. "Helen, you certainly know our children well," he murmured quietly to his wife and then assisted her up from the seat. He sent one last glance back at his daughter, letting all the love he felt for her reflect momentarily on his face, although she was blissfully unaware of the visitors in her room. "We'll be out in a minute, Mart," he called back. He cupped Trixie's face in his hand and bent forward, pressing a quick kiss to her still face. "Sleep well, Princess."

Helen felt fresh tears spring to her eyes. She blindly wiped them away, wondering when the last time she had cried so much in one day. She couldn't remember. Reluctantly, she let go of Trixie's hand and followed her husband slowly to the door, staring after her daughter the entire way. She looked so small, almost as if the hospital bed wanted to engulf her. Taking in a deep breath, she waved farewell and headed out the door, with a motherly smile for her anxious son.

Mart was impatiently tapping out an off-tempo beat on the wall across the hall, entirely focused on the door to his sister's room, with Brian and Honey bookending him on either side, when his parents entered the overly bright hallway. "Thanks," he blurted out immediately and pushed his way past them, more than eager to see his sister. Brian had given him a quick synopsis of all that he knew about the evening, so Mart was as prepared as he could be for what he would find inside. He still inhaled sharply at the sight of Trixie's face but did his best to not let it affect him. "Hey, Beatrix," he greeted her, pulling the chair that his mother had recently vacated up towards the bed. He picked up her limp hand and held on to it, much as his mother had done. He almost expected her eyes to open and her mouth to frown at his use of her hated first name, her normal reaction to his teasing. But it didn't happen, much to his dismay.

"I hear you had a pretty interesting evening," he began, his eyes traveling across her face and noting each cut and bruise, feeling his own blood start to boil. He forged on bravely, telling her about his night, as if she was really listening to each word, "Much more interesting than mine, I must say. I spent a good portion of it at Mr. May penny's cabin, helping Dan mend a broken water pipe, as you know. It was a comedy of errors, as usual. You know what it can be like when the four of us men get together. If it wasn't us forgetting what we needed at the store, it was someone turning the water back on when he shouldn't have." He didn't add that he had been the one to turn the water back on at a rather inopportune time. Chuckling lowly, he added, "You should have heard Dan. He has some pretty inventive language when the situation calls for it."

She stayed still, throughout the story and the short chortle of laughter, with the gentle rise and fell of her chest showing that she was asleep. Whether her dreams were peaceful or not, he couldn't tell. He certainly hoped so. She deserved all the peace that she could get. Mart fervently wished that she would open her eyes so that he could tell for sure. She wasn't adept at hiding her emotions, was usually about as easy to read as his favorite book. At least she was getting some much-needed rest, he thought to himself, allowing the quietness of the room to surround them. He couldn't hear anything other than the even sound of her breathing. That was good enough for him.

He dropped his head in his hands, rubbing his hands through his short hair, and sent up a swift, powerful prayer that she had survived. "Thank goodness, Trix. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're my best friend, you know that. We may drive each other crazy but that's part of our appeal." Reaching forward, he picked up one of her curls and tugged at it, watching it spring back into its normal spot with its usual buoyancy.

The years they had spent together played through his mind like the most bittersweet home movie ever, with slide after slide of familiar and loving memories. The fact that the end had been so precariously close made him shiver. His voice came out rough and uneven. "You have no idea what I was thinking when you were out in the woods." Mart had to stop to clear his voice. "The things that went through my mind were the stuff that nightmares are made of." He leaned forward, his face still resting in his hands. "I'm not sure what kind of star you were born under, Trix, if it's a lucky one or the most unfavorable one imaginable, but I can't begin to tell you what it means to me that you're alive."

He stared off into space, holding her hand within his, and reliving his part in the evening. He would never forget the way Di had burst in on them at the cabin or how frightened she had been when she had realized the sacrifice Trixie had made for her. Looking down at his sister, he knew that she wouldn't have had it any other way. "I'm sure you'd want to know about Di. She's doing well. I got to see her for a few minutes before coming down here. She's sleeping, too, just like you. She's got a bruise to rival yours on her forehead but she's going to fine. She has a concussion but that's about it. It could have been much worse." He reached over and brushed a blonde tendril off of her cheek. "She was very scared for you, Trix. I was the one who got to tell her that you were here, in the hospital, and being taken care of." He remembered the smile she had given him and the glistening tears that had turned her eyes into wet amethysts. "She was very happy, Trix. She can't wait to see you tomorrow. She told me to tell you 'thank you'."

He took a few minutes to study her in silence, bruises and all, and then stood up, knowing that there were others outside the door who wanted to see for themselves that she was well and truly all right. "It's a good thing that you're asleep. You're going to have quite a revolving door," he shared with a little laugh. "You're going to be very popular. There are lots of people out there who want to see you." He bent forward and, in a total un-Mart like move, gave her a fleeting kiss on the top of her head.

Her blue eyes fluttered open briefly, looked confused but then focused in, seeing her brother staring down at her and recognizing him. "Mart," she mumbled out roughly while a tiny smile danced wistfully across her lips before the darkness reclaimed her and she fell blissfully back within its safety net.

He stayed where he was, just staring down at her, with an expression on his face that was both shocked and pleased, realizing that he had been given a cherished gift. He hadn't expected her to wake. The fact that she had made him realize how fortunate he had been. "Trixie," he finally responded, a wealth of meaning in that one, single word. It took him a minute longer before he was able to leave his sister, keeping an eye on her the entire way to the door.

Honey didn't waste a minute. The second Mart came out, she scurried through the open door before Brian could beat her to it. Brian stared after her, open-mouthed, but then gave a short bark of laughter. "It's nice to see Honey asserting herself," he shared with Mart. At his brother's confused look, Brian explained, "You should have seen her in action tonight. It was a Honey I hadn't seen before. The paramedics didn't stand a chance, not when she had her mind set. She forced her way into the ambulance and came to the hospital with Trixie." It wasn't something he was going to forget anytime soon. She had been magnificent.

Mart looked around, shocked when he didn't see their parents, and stared in confusion at his older brother. "Where are Moms and Dad?"

Brian pointed down the hall and explained, "Larry woke up for the first time from his surgery. He was asking to see Bobby. I think he wanted to make sure that they really won the second game of their double header. He didn't believe Terry when he told him that they had. He had to hear it from Bobby." Brian smiled at their antics. They were quite a threesome. Bobby ended up being the voice of reason within them often. "They went with Bobby down the hall to his room. I think then they are going to depart for home and try to get some rest. They don't really want to leave but someone needs to go home. Poor Reddy. I don't think he's been outside since the afternoon." He patted the chair and waited for Mart to sit down. "I rather feel like I'm channeling our sister. I've volunteered our services for the night. We're staying here. We'll watch over everyone."

Mart sank down into the chair, liking the sound of it. "Yeah, that's good, Brian. That's an excellent choice. I wasn't planning on leaving tonight, anyway, not with Trixie and Di here." He didn't know if he would ever be able to sleep again. Images of the past evening floated through his mind, bringing a spurt of fresh and frustrated anger with him. "You know, Brian, what really sucks about all of this is that we didn't have a clue what was really going on. We were all completely and totally blindsided, by a man I always thought was rather harmless. If we only had had a hint about Tilney Britten and his true motivation, we would have been able to prevent it. I know we could have done that." He stared at his brother, hoping that Brian would be able to give him an answer. "Why didn't we know?"

Brian stretched out his long limbs. "He was much smarter than any of us thought, that's for certain. Even Sergeant Molinson and the police were stumped, until Trixie put them on the right track. They had most of it figured out, in the end. They were actually on the way to his apartment to arrest him when Honey's call for help came through." He breathed out a long whoosh of air, expecting that to help him feel better. It didn't.

"I still feel horrendously stupid for being fooled so completely. I mean, Di was the target the entire time? How insane is that?" Mart laid his head on the back of the chair, contemplated the ceiling, and replayed the last week and a half. There wasn't much that stuck out to him that Di was the intended victim, other than the odd noise they had heard at the clubhouse. He couldn't recall any other incidents, although he had a strong suspicion that Trixie would be able to clue him in once she felt strong enough. Arching an eyebrow, he gave up.

Brian saw the conflicting emotions flitting across his brother's face. "Mart, don't beat yourself up over it," he advised wisely. "If you look at it this way, who would you most likely expect to be a victim of a stalker? Trixie or Di?"

"Trixie. Unfortunate but true. That's a no-brainer," Mart replied, without a hint of humor to his voice, and with another long sigh full of consternation. "Trixie does have a lot more enemies out there than Di." It was the plain and simple truth, no matter how much he wished his sister didn't collect enemies the way most people collected knick-knacks. Mart scrubbed a hand over his tired face. "It's over, at least. We won't have to worry about someone terrorizing our sister or our friend anymore, which has to be a positive, I guess."

"No one will be out there but the memories will be quite powerful," Brian interjected soberly. He stared ahead, looking at the colorful poster posted in front of him about how to prevent the spread of the H1N1 virus without really seeing it. The words were all jumbled together, not making a lick of sense to him. "It's good that Trixie's so strong. She'll need her strength to face them and conquer them."

"Well, we're all going to be there for her and for Di. They're going to have to beat us away with a stick if they even want a moment of peace," Mart replied quickly. He looked at Brian, closed his eyes, and said meaningfully, "Thanks, by the way."

Brian cocked his head to one side, trying to decipher why on earth his brother would be thanking him. He hadn't done much, other than come in at the tail end. "What for, Mart?" he inquired curiously.

Mart opened his eyes. "You brought her back," he answered simply, with his blue eyes regaining some of their normal sparkle. He dropped an arm around his brother's shoulders and squeezed. "You brought her back, Brian. We'll be taking her home tomorrow…or, later today, depending on how you want to look at it." He studied the closed door one more time, a large grin spreading across his face. "She's going home."

Note: I won't be able to update as normally this week…there's a lot going on at work, plus I actually need to clean my house for a birthday party this weekend (yeah, I'm not looking forward to the cleaning…I go for the 'lick and a promise' cleaning myself.) Anyway, I hope to get up at least one more chapter this week…we'll see. I should be back to normal next week! Have a great week!


	40. Chapter 39

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Clad only in his jeans, trying not to shiver against the cool, recycled hospital air that was at least ten degrees chillier than it should have been, Jim focused on the squares that made up the ceiling, resolutely counting them off one by one while the doctor prepared to begin the tedious process of stitching the large wound closed, while his opposite hand gripped the side of the examining table until his knuckles turned white with unspoken nerves. He didn't want to watch the process, having seen enough when he had observed the doctor cleaning out the wound. It had stung, worse than he had ever expected, worse than he had ever remembered it feeling from the other times when he had needed stitches. The local anesthesia hadn't felt any better, certainly hadn't resembled the bee sting the doctor had told him it would feel like, and had caused a trail of liquid fire to travel up his arm. A numbing feeling had soon followed.

"Well, here goes nothing," Doctor Yoder muttered to himself before starting, his hands sure and competent as he inserted the sterile needle into the skin and began the arduous process of closing the wound. His movements were quick and precise while he continued to mumble out words to himself, carefully watching where each incision went, and completely ignored the patient sitting rigidly on the table.

Jim didn't respond, not that he was meant to, kept looking up at the ceiling, and started counting the squares. Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…by the time he made it to thirty, his arm didn't hurt that much and he almost couldn't feel the odd tug of the needle going through his skin and pulling the two ragged ends of skin back together. Either he had become used to the sensations or else the anesthesia had totally kicked in because it didn't bother him anymore. He threw all of his concentration onto the ceiling and didn't think about the doctor who was completing a rather tedious and unpleasant job.

Seven extremely long minutes passed by, where Jim found out that there were exactly sixty-four ceiling squares and was able to start counting the tiny dots on each ceiling square before Doctor Yoder completed his last stitch, sewing the wound closed with a grunt of approval. "Excellent. It is excellent," he announced with a doctor's well-earned arrogance as he leaned back and admired his handiwork, giving a satisfied smile, very pleased with the row of neat, tidy stitches that he had placed. "It looks very good, Mr. Frayne," he shared after a moment of studying his work, deciding that he had done the best job possible. "You will heal very quickly. Some patients say that the stitches start to feel like they are tugging on the skin or making it itch as the skin begins to mend. You shouldn't have any trouble with that. It's nothing compared to what you went through to get such a gash in the first place. You will be able to ignore it, of that I have no doubt. You will want to watch getting it wet, of course. Be careful with that," he cautioned him, wagging a well-meaning finger at him.

Jim didn't hear a single word the doctor had said. He stared down at his arm, captivated by the myriad of stitches, how the first one began close to his elbow and ran the entire way to the last one right before his wrist. The knife had made a long, jagged gash that was ugly in the extreme. He hadn't realized how lengthy the wound really was. He pictured the scar that would be left behind as a permanent reminder of the evening. If all he had to deal with was a scar, no matter how big it was going to be, he decided he could handle it. Trixie was going to be fine. That was all that mattered to him. "How many?" he asked hoarsely, eventually finding his voice.

"There are thirty-eight in all," the doctor replied matter-of-factly. While the young man had been counting the ceiling tiles, he had been counting each and every carefully placed stitch. He stared at the young man, already aware of how he had come to have been sliced up and thankful that he didn't need to notify the police about the incident, and started the final process of wrapping the forearm up, in order to prevent any infection from affecting the healing of the wound. "That was a pretty nice sized cut that you had there, Mr. Frayne. It's been one of the longest ones I have ever had the pleasure of sewing closed. I'd stay away from knives for a while, though, if I were you. I don't think that you mix too well with them," he put in drily.

Jim grunted in reply. Left without any other option of clothing, he reached for his torn and stained shirt and slipped it back over his head, being careful not to bump his bandaged forearm in the process. He looked down at the tattered sleeve, as well as the multitude of bloodstains splashed across his shirt and his jeans, and realized with an inward sigh that he would give anything to have fresh, clean clothes to wear instead. "Am I free to go?" he questioned suddenly, hoping for a positive response. Now that the wound was cleaned and taken care of, he was impatient to get upstairs, to find out more about Trixie, and to actually see her. He could hardly wait. Each second he had been with the doctor had seemed to be an eternity in itself. He needed to see her. It was the only way that he would truly believe that she was upstairs and sleeping peacefully.

Doctor Yoder pulled out a prescription pad and scribbled out a prescription for a mild painkiller in his illegible handwriting, lifting his eyebrows at his impatient patient. He had realized quickly that Jim had other, more complicated things on his mind besides his minor operation. "I'd recommend filling this, in case you should have any undue pain from the wound. It's mild but more potent than an over-the-counter medication," he explained carefully and handed over the prescription, somehow doubting that Jim would have it filled.

Jim folded it, stuffed it into his pocket and stood up, already forgetting that it was there, secure in the knowledge that he would be able to tough out the pain. "I can go, right, Dr. Yoder?" he restated, finding it difficult to keep his feet still, and strode swiftly to the door. He already had one hand on the door handle before the doctor told him yes. Jim sent him a nod of thanks and then opened the door with a sigh of relief.

Walking swiftly down the crowded corridor bustling with doctors, nurses, and other patients moving through the hallway with much less speed than him, Jim followed the red arrows painted on the floor, leading the way out of the emergency room and pointing the way back to the waiting room. He moved with a fierce purpose, the expression on his face stoic and closed off, and excited about finally getting out of the emergency room, with the second floor as his next destination. Pushing through the double doors at the end of the hall, extremely thankful to be out of the emergency room, he started to move through the waiting room, keeping the door at the end of the room firmly in his sights, only to be brought to a halt by a familiar voice.

"Hey, Jim. Over here," Dan greeted him loudly when it looked like Jim was going to hurry past him, his long body spread out in the uncomfortable chair, and one eyebrow arched high. Interesting, he thought to himself, although he had a very good idea on where Jim was headed in such a hurry. Then he saw the fresh bandage, as well as the blood-stained shirt, and felt a wave of sympathy for his friend. In the dark of the night he hadn't realized how bad the cut had been or how much it had bled. He had also had his share of trips to the emergency room in his life and knew how much fun they could be. "How did it go, Jim?" he inquired soberly.

Jim halted, a welcoming grin working its way across his handsome face, and ignored the question, not wanting to talk about it. It was over and done with and that was about all he wanted to think about the subject, other than the fact that he would have to try and keep it dry. "Thanks for waiting for me, Dan," he said, appreciating the effort. He hadn't expected any of his friends or family to be in the waiting room. It felt unbelievably good to know that someone had chosen to wait for him. He put a hand in the back pocket of his jeans and waited for his friend to stand. "Is everyone else upstairs?"

Dan uncurled his lean body and stretched out his tired joints before joining his friend. "I haven't been upstairs in a while but I'm sure they are all still there. I ran into Brian and his father and volunteered to stay here." Dan caught the way Jim overlooked his question about his stitches, not surprised in the least, and gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Jim had always been on the private side. Dan always respected that need, as did the rest of the Bob-Whites. He fell into an easy step besides Jim as their combined feet traveled along the tiled flooring. Hooking his thumbs through the loops of his jeans, he added, "Let's go find out, Jim. They are as anxious to see you as you are to see them."

They were only two feet from the door to the waiting room when it burst open. Honey propelled herself through it, stopped short at the two solemn men staring back at her in shocked surprise, and then threw her arms around her brother. "Jim!" she shrieked out excitedly, causing more than one pair of eyes to swing in their direction. She hugged him tightly, giggling the entire time, feeling slightly hysterical and definitely on edge. It had been a long night, one where she had felt every emotion imaginable, from terror and helplessness to relief and joy. "You're finally finished done here, Jim! All of us were wondering what was keeping you so long." She took a deep breath and then rambled on before he could reply, "I mean, of course we knew what you were doing. You certainly weren't responsible for how long it took, either. That would be the doctor's fault. We all know that you were getting stitches down here, but, my goodness; it seemed to take an awful long time. It seems like it's been forever since Brian came upstairs and Dan came downstairs." She came to a sudden stop, laughed at herself, and brushed back a strand of her hair, feeling her face warm with embarrassment. Holding her hands out in front of her, she admitted ruefully, "Sorry about that. I'm rambling again. I know that. Sorry again, Jim, Dan. Anyway, you must know what I mean; I know that, even if I do sound like an idiot."

Jim and Dan stared at each other for a full minute, waiting to see if Honey had actually finished speaking, and doing their best to interpret her speech. When no more words were forthcoming from her and they were relatively certain of her meaning, Jim hugged her back. "No, you don't sound like an idiot. You sound wonderful. Thanks for coming to check up on me, Sis," he told her quietly and with meaning. "It's good to see you again, too."

"I just came from upstairs," Honey responded inanely, in the off chance that they hadn't been able to figure that out for themselves. She gestured towards the doorway. "I was visiting Di and Trixie. It's okay to see both of them now, in case you were wondering. They are in their rooms, of course. Only one person can go in at a time, though, but that's not surprising," she added hastily. "They are both sleeping now, which is a good thing. Come on, guys, and follow me. Let's go see them."

Abruptly, she turned on her heel and led the way through the doors. Glancing over her shoulder to see if they were following her, she pushed open the door and nearly ran straight into the couple coming into the waiting room in the process. "Oh, my goodness! I'm sorry…" Her apology was broken off when she realized who was on the other side of the door. "Mother! Daddy!" she cried out happily, clasping her hands together, and stepping through the doorway and out of the view of the interested audience inside the waiting room. "I didn't realize you were going to get here so soon!"

"We were already on our way home from the mayor's house when you called and told us what had happened," Matthew explained solemnly, his shrewd eyes missing nothing as he looked past Honey and at Jim. He saw the bandage, the torn sleeve, the bloodstains, and the ugly bruises on his son's face. Anger like he had never experienced before started to bubble merrily within him, turning his eyes to a much darker shade, and making him wish he had something handy to release it on.

"I am so very thankful that we found you, all of you!" Madeleine exclaimed happily. In a completely unplanned motion, she threw an arm around her daughter and her adopted son, embracing them tightly while tears threatened to spill from her soft, gentle eyes, dropping the bag of clean clothes she was carrying to the floor in the process. Dan reached down to retrieve it, silently watching the reunion of the Wheeler/Frayne family, and moved off to the side, trying to give them as much privacy as he possibly could.

"You are both fine! I find it hard to believe after everything that happened tonight that you are both all right!" Madeleine let her gaze wander over each of them, inspecting each beloved feature, and held on for dear life, almost as if she never wanted to let go of her children ever again.

Matthew stood a few feet away, quiet, still, and stoic, unable to take his gaze off of his son. The signs that the bastard had left on Jim were forever imprinted in his mind, branding it and making it impossible to ever forget about what had happened. He rather wished that Britten was alive so that he could take care of him himself. A smile that could only be called cunning and calculating worked its way across his lips as he fantasized about what, exactly, he would have done to the man.

Jim saw the furious flush that had started to flare on father's face, could easily predict what his father was thinking about, and met his steely gaze with one of his own. They nodded their heads in acknowledgement, both in agreement on what they would have liked to have done, and both thankful that the man was dead. "I'll be fine," he said over his mother's bent head, hoping to diffuse his father's helpless anger, and help both of them move on and heal, in more ways than one. "Don't worry about me, Dad. It's already been taken care of."

Matthew contemplated Jim and then gave him another curt nod, holding onto his own frustrations with a tight leash for his children's sake. Then he thought about what Jim had done, how he had tracked the two of them down in the woods and had tried his very best to save Trixie, and felt an overwhelming surge of pride in his son, for his bravery and for his perseverance. Finally remembering that Dan was there, he smiled at him, relieved that there were at least a few of the young adults that he loved and admired who had managed to make it through the night's unusual activities, healthy and unscathed, and brought the silent man into the conversation. "Hi, Dan. I'll bet you can give us an in-depth report. How are the rest of the Bob-Whites?"

"Trixie and Di are upstairs. Honey said that they are both sleeping. Larry Lynch is also sleeping off the effects of his surgery. He managed to break his ankle at the baseball game," Dan answered quietly. He offered the bag of clothes to Matthew, his own eyes somber and serious.

Honey slipped an arm around her mother's waist, in the way she would have loved to have done when she was a child. "I was able to see both of them a few minutes ago. In fact, I just came from Trixie's room. She's doing as well as can be. She was given medicine to help dull the pain. She has a few fractured ribs. The rest are bruised."

Hands on his hips, Jim frowned up at the ceiling, taking the news hard. Even though he had been prepared for the extent of Trixie's injuries, hearing them confirmed didn't make him feel any better. It only made him more frustrated and angry. How he wished that he had been able to find her sooner, to have prevented her injuries from ever happening. The cauldron of emotions began to bubble and boil within him. Only one thing would be able to soothe it. The sight of Trixie, living and breathing and sleeping. He didn't hear the next part of the conversation, more than content to wallow in his own complicated thoughts.

Honey didn't catch her brother's preoccupation. She continued on, sharing all the information that she knew, "Brian went in after me to visit her. Mart's already seen her, too. Di was being checked on by the nurse so we've been kicked out of her room for the time being." She looked at the large clock adorning the scuffed wall and noted offhandedly that the hospital staff needed to paint it. "I would have to say that the nurse is finished checking her vitals by now. We won't have to wait much longer to go back in and see her."

"We ran into the Beldens and the Lynches in the parking lot," Matthew interjected after Honey's long-winded speech, hiding a small chuckle at his daughter behind a well-timed cough, very well aware of her tendency to get ahead of herself, especially when she was nervous or scared. He also hadn't missed how Jim had taken himself out of the conversation and immediately recognized the reason why. He kept his eyes on Jim, waiting for the younger man to look back at him before adding, "It's the reason why we were late in coming inside the hospital. They were on their way to their cars. As you probably know, they wanted to bring the younger set home for the night. Bobby, Terry and the girls all looked exhausted. They gave us a much more detailed account on the events of the night and they also told us that Brian and Mart and you, Honey, had volunteered to spend the night here and watch out for our invalids." Thinking back to the time his daughter and Trixie had spent time in the hospital after their narrow escape in Missouri, he knew without asking that Jim and Dan would be staying, too.

Dan and Jim shared a meaningful look, conveying their thoughts without words. "Sounds like a great idea," Dan replied immediately. He wasn't going to get a good night's sleep anyway, he realized with a small shrug of his shoulders. An uncomfortable hospital chair would work as well as his bed for the night, plus there was simply no way he would leave with two of his best friends admitted to the hospital. He started down the hall with a wave to the small family, eager to start his shift after getting another cup of the disgusting yet fortifying coffee from the cafeteria. "I'll see you up there, Jim and Honey," he said to his friends. "Have a good night, Mr. Wheeler, Mrs. Wheeler." He whistled softly as he made his way towards the cafeteria and the salvation that the coffee promised him.

Jim watched his friend depart with a trace of envy sparking in his emerald green eyes, more than eager to see for himself that Trixie was asleep. He was glad that Di and Larry were okay, too, but his impatience stemmed from his overwhelming need to see Trixie. It must have been on his face again because Honey slipped a hand in his and gave it a quick squeeze. "Thanks for bringing me new clothes," he finally said after taking the bag from his father, who had tried to offer it to Jim three times before he finally responded. He pointed at the shirt he was wearing. "I think this one has seen better days."

Madeleine held it in despite the strong need to let her emotions out. She didn't shudder, she didn't weep, and she didn't start hitting something, although she desperately wanted to. Instead, she pulled her aristocratic upbringing around her like a favorite cloak and hid her emotions behind the smallest of smiles. "I would say so, too, Jim," she remarked, her voice trembling the tiniest of bits even though she worked hard to keep it still. She had to swallow to hold back tears that were threatening to spill yet again.

Schooled in the ways of his wife and how much she hated to have her emotions get the better of her, especially in front of others, even if they were their own children, Matthew immediately put an arm around her waist, offering her unconditional support, and pulled her closer to his body. "Yes, well," he said gruffly, "I'm sure that both of you would like to be upstairs, instead of down here talking with us. We'll see you two at home…after the girls have been released, right?"

"Of course, Dad," he answered affirmatively, sharing a quick look with his sister and trying his best to hide his relief that he was finally going to be able to make it upstairs. "None of us would have it any other way." He couldn't help but notice the way his mother leaned in to his father, gaining strength from the mere touch. A little smile touched his lips. They were certainly a much different couple than the Beldens but they were just as strong of a unit and just as devoted to each other. They always made time for each other, even if they weren't always home with their children. Jim studied them closely, realizing that they had found a way to make their lives work together despite the complication of his father's hectic work schedule. There were many different types of relationships and he had witnessed many successful ones. His birth parents, his adopted parents, the Beldens and the Lynches. He knew that they all served as good models for him, for all of them, and he wondered briefly what type of relationship he and Trixie would have. He could see it, could almost touch it, had much of it planned out, far into the future, and well beyond the dating stage that they were on the threshold of.

"Hey, Jim, are you listening to us?" Matthew questioned, offering his son a confused look, and tapping him on the shoulder.

Honey nudged him in his good arm. "Mother's asked you twice now how many stitches it took to sew up your arm," she put in, her hazel eyes narrowed and concerned, wondering if he was having a reaction to the local anesthesia. "Are you all right?"

He gave a shake of his red head, offered a dry chuckle at his own expense, and apologized swiftly to his family, "Sorry about that. I was just thinking." Glancing down at the fresh bandage on his arm, he answered, "I believe the final count was thirty-eight stitches."

Madeleine grimaced, appalled by the large amount. "Ouch," she murmured, imaging how painful that experience must have been. She had never needed stitches before. Neither had Honey. Staring at the arm, she pictured it in her mind, trying to block out how, exactly, he had received the slash. From a knife. From some psycho who had been doing his best to kill Trixie but who had really wanted to hurt Di. Hiding a sigh, she felt tears prick her eyes again and forcefully blinked them away. "Well," she decided after a moment of silence, "I am grateful that it is over, Jim. Trixie's safe. Di's safe. And you and Honey are safe."

Matthew pulled Jim into a bear hug, correctly guessing that Madeleine was getting close to her breaking point. He imagined that she would cry the entire way home in the safety and privacy of their car. "We'll see you at home." Then he gave a similar hug to Honey, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her forehead for good measure. He gently guided Madeleine down the long corridor, with Jim trailing a bit behind, knowing that the young adults in their midst needed to have privacy in order to begin their healing. "Have a good night."

Jim waved to them, watched them exit through the sliding glass doors of the front entrance, and then turned towards the elevators, feeling a sense of anticipation overcoming him. He found it hard to believe that he was finally going to be able to see for himself that Trixie was safe. "Let's go, Honey," he spoke insistently to his sister.

Honey rolled her eyes as she followed him into the elevator. "I'll be glad to show you which rooms are Di's and Trixie's," she told him. "They are at opposite ends of the floor. Di was put into a room that is right next to Larry, which is very convenient. However, Trixie was put at the other end of the hallway. All three of them have private rooms."

Even though the elevator only needed to go up one floor, it seemed to take forever. By the time the bell chimed, announcing his destination and letting him out, his impatience was practically eating away at him and Honey had given up trying to get him to partake in a conversation. Without any expression on his face, he exited the doors before they had time to fully open, with only one thought on his mind. Trixie. It was finally time to see her.

The first person they saw was Brian, holding up a wall with two cups of coffee in his hands. "I was wondering when you would both get up here," he said, pushing himself away and starting down the long hall, assuming Jim and Honey would follow him. "Dan beat you back up here. He came back a few minutes ago."

"I was a little busy," Jim remarked sarcastically, holding up his arm for good measure.

Brian ignored the sarcasm and offered him a Styrofoam cup. Steam rose up from the opening. "Courtesy of Dan," he explained offhandedly. "He must have known we were going to need it for the long night ahead of us and he brought us a cup. It tastes like the worst sludge in the world but it's got one hell of a kick to it. I think you'll like it." He took another sip of it, nearly grimaced as it poured down his throat, and brought the cup down to his waist. "It tastes great," he added unconvincingly.

Honey made a face, grateful that Dan hadn't brought one for her. Coffee was not her favorite drink. She did her best to avoid it, unless it was absolutely necessary. "No, thanks," she said when Jim held the cup out to her, frowning at it as if it was the most disgusting thing in the world, and shuddered. "Even though I'm tired I don't think the effects would be worth it."

Jim shrugged, gamely took a sip, and then scowled. "Uhh. You weren't kidding, Brian. The aftertaste is even worse than what you said," he grumbled, although he did go back for seconds. He couldn't argue with the instantaneous surge of wakefulness that the caffeine brought to him. "So, where are we going? And what exactly are we doing?" Door numbers flashed by. He couldn't help but wonder which door was Trixie's.

"Di and Larry are back that way," Honey offered, gesturing towards the other end of the hallway, while she wondered where Brian was leading them, too. "Rooms 202 and 204."

"We're heading to the waiting room on this floor where we are going to finish planning our strategy for the night," Brian answered quickly. He had come up with the idea with Mart while the other three had been completing their sojourn downstairs. "We figure that with three patients that are in need of someone to watch over them and five of us, we should set up some kind of a rotating schedule. That way Trix, Di and Larry will have someone with them throughout the entire night. They may not know that we're there but it will help us feel better. And, should any of them wake up, they will at least be able to see a friendly face."

Ever the thoughtful, considerate man, Jim thought to himself, to make sure that all three had someone to visit. But, as much as he cared for Di and her brother, there was only one person he needed to see, rather like the way he needed air to breathe. "I get to sit with Trixie first, right?" he questioned hastily, not caring how he sounded to her brother or his sister.

"I think that could be arranged," Brian responded drily with a lifted eyebrow, sharing a look of amusement with Honey, who was having a difficult time keeping up with Jim's long-legged pace. Brian came to a deliberate halt, causing Jim to slow down and giving Honey time to catch up to them. "Everyone but Dan has had a chance to see her already. I doubt he'll mind waiting a little longer. What do you think, Honey?"

She gifted him with a grateful smile, thinking that her brother was chomping at the bit to see Trixie, much like Jupiter when he was raring to go for a ride. "It won't bother Dan to wait for a while longer. I know he won't mind at all." She then added thoughtfully, "We should probably let Mart sit with Di first, too. I think that would only be fair."

Brian thought that was a good idea, knowing that it would make Mart happy to stay with Di first. Glad that the first shifts were nearly settled, he pointed at Jim's arm. "How does that feel, Jim?" He looked at the bandage curiously, noting how the doctor had expertly attached it.

"A little tight now." Jim flexed his arm. He didn't know if it was his imagination or if he really could feel the stitches starting to fuse the two jagged pieces of skin back together. "I imagine it'll only get better from here on out." He caught the sign that read "Waiting Room" in the middle of the hallway and eagerly headed towards it, with Brian and Honey a good two steps behind. He pushed open the door to the waiting room. It was nearly empty except for the two young men in the room. Mart jumped to immediate attention from the sofa he had been resting on while Dan continued to lounge against the wall.

"The gang's all here. Finally," Mart quipped with a ghost of his impish grin floating across his lips.

"Almost," Honey breathed out with a small wistful sigh and carefully perched on the arm of a well-cushioned chair. She clapped her hands together, stared at Brian, and said, "Well, let's get started. We need to set up our rotation. We have some people that we need to see." She stared at the others, ready to get their assignments for the night.

Brian gestured towards Jim. "He's got dibs on Trix. Honey thinks we should let Mart sit in with Di first, too." Mart threw her a grateful look and a wide smile. "That only leaves Larry unaccounted for. Who wants to stay with him first?"

"I will," Dan offered suddenly, pushing himself away from the wall. He tossed out his empty cup and heading towards the door. "Mart filled me in on his room number. 204. I'll head down there and get comfortable. Brian and Honey, why don't you figure out the rest of the rotation while we get settled?" When the two nodded, Dan opened the door. "Have a good night, guys. I'll see you later."

Jim watched the door close behind his friend. Had he known the numbed to Trixie's room, he would already have been out the door instead of waiting, yet again. "Trixie's room?" Jim inquired hurriedly, already turning towards the door.

"221," Mart supplied helpfully and with a knowing grin working its way across his face. About to tease him, he held himself back, well aware of how Jim had come to have stitches placed in his arm. He decided that Jim didn't need any teasing about his feelings for Trixie. He would give him a little bit of time, he decided generously. Teasing could wait, at least until everything settled back into their normal routine. He took one last sip of his coffee and followed Jim out the door, leaving Brian and Honey in the waiting room. Stopping in the doorway, Mart watched Jim move down the hall, impressed with how fast he went, before turning towards the opposite end of the hall.

If Jim could have sprinted through the long hall, he would have, but, since it was a hospital, Jim traveled down the long stretch of hall with as much decorum as he could manage, his long legs eating up the tiled hallway. It was faster than it should have, earned him more than one raised eyebrow from the nurses on duty. When he reached the door, he took a deep breath before turning the handle and stepping into the darkened room. Soft light came from the corner, above the sink, but he didn't notice its gentle glow. He only had eyes for his special girl.

She was lying on her back, the white blanket tucked around her, her left arm flat against her side, and her soft blonde curls billowing gently around her head, with a serene expression on her face in spite of the harsh marks left on her by her evening. Her eyelashes fanned her cheeks, her lips were pulled together in a relaxed line, and her right arm lay across her stomach. Every now and then a soft sigh passed by her lips. She looked amazing to him.

Grabbing the lone chair in the room with one hand, Jim pulled it up towards the bed, getting as close as he could. Dropping his bag of fresh clothes to the floor, forgotten, he sat down, keeping her within his sights the entire time, almost as if he was afraid that she would vanish if he took his eyes off of her for even a second, and scooted the chair even closer until his knees touched the bed frame. Then he gingerly picked up her hand, held onto it, and studied her closely, choosing to ignore the ugly battle wounds on her face. He noted the even rise and fall of her chest, the way her hand stayed limp within his, and the tangle of blonde curls, as well as the way her mouth suddenly pulled back into a frown, as if she had taken a particularly painful breath of air, before she relaxed again. "Hey, Trixie," he whispered, lacing his fingers through hers. "It's good to see you resting. You look very peaceful." Her curls beckoned him, the same way they had since he was fifteen years old. Without thinking, he reached out and smoothed a hand over them, enjoying the silky soft feel of them under his fingers.

He saw the bandage on his arm. "My cut's been taken care of," Jim informed her quietly, hoping that she could actually hear what he was telling her. "It took thirty-eight stitches in all but it was worth every single one. I only wish that I could have beaten him. You can't even begin to imagine how I feel since I wasn't able to." It was true. He had a strong suspicion that the guilt would continue to gnaw away at him. Admitting it aloud helped. Admitting it to Trixie, even though she was sleeping, helped the most and seemed to be the best medicine of all for him. She was the only one who would be fully able to comprehend his feelings on what he perceived to be his shortcomings since she had been there with him, in a struggle for their very lives. "My biggest regret is that I wasn't able to have protected you through it all. How I wish that I had been able to, Trix. I'm so sorry about that."

Jim pulled her hand closer to him, leaned his cheek against it, and was deeply thankful that she was still here and very much alive. He found it hard to believe that he had only been home from college for a little over a week, that only the previous night they had shared an extremely private discussion, first in his kitchen and then in his bedroom. He remembered how she had looked, standing in the moonlight in his room, clad only in her pajamas. Then he recalled how she had felt in his arms, during that long embrace that he hadn't wanted to end. A slice of pure heaven. His arms practically ached to feel her within them again. His grip tightened on her hand before he admitted fiercely, "I'm not planning on leaving you anytime soon, Trixie. The rest of the Bob-Whites want to come in to visit you but I'm going to be selfish tonight. I'm not leaving. I'm staying right here for the duration." He had no intention of giving up his spot. He sat back in the chair, prepared to spend the rest of the seemingly endless night like that, and watched her continue to slumber away.


	41. Chapter 40

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Forty

Heaving a deep sigh, Honey opened the door to the empty waiting room and sat down in the chair she had recently vacated, disappointed but not surprised by what she had found out. She laid her head against the back of the chair, closing her eyes as she let the exhaustion of the evening start to overtake her, with only the shadowy images behind her closed eyelids as her company. Then she heard the small click of the door as it opened, followed by the soft sounds of sneakered feet. She turned her head towards the door but didn't open her eyes, knowing exactly who it was, whether by the sound of his footsteps or the understated smell of his cologne. "Hello, Brian," she murmured quietly, rubbing her arms in a futile attempt to make her body warm.

He stopped in the doorway, slightly astonished that she knew who had entered without opening her eyes, until he remembered that she possessed the same sleuthing abilities as his sister. "Honey," he greeted her back, paused in the doorway. He reached behind him and closed the door with a short click. "Why aren't you in visiting Trixie?" Brian came into the quiet room, his hands filled to overflowing with thin hospital-style pillows and white cotton blankets.

Honey didn't open her eyes, enjoying the sensation that maybe, just maybe, she may be able to fall asleep soon. Her voice held all the sarcasm she needed. "I imagine the same reason why you didn't send Dan over to Di's room," she responded drily, remembering what she had found in Trixie's room. While it had been awful sweet, she couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed. Her brother had successfully thwarted her attempt to take his place.

Brian dropped a pillow and a blanket in Honey's lap, causing her to jolt in surprise. "Courtesy of the night nurses. A pillow and a blanket. Only the finest for us. It'll help make our stay a little more comfortable," he explained with the ends of his lips tilting up. Then he rubbing his tired eyes and took a seat on the sofa next to Honey's chair. He put the other thin pillow behind his head and laid down, wishing that he was in the comforts of his own bedroom instead of in a sterile hospital waiting room. Glancing at the walls, he wondered why it hadn't registered that they were painted an odd shade of light orange. Then he stared down at the floor, caught the dark brown of the carpet, and fully realized how ugly the waiting room was. Recalling what Honey had said, he asked, "So Jim fell asleep, too?"

She smiled her appreciation for the pillow and blanket and followed his example. The blanket warmed her considerably."Of course he did." A soft glow entered her eyes as she thought back to how he had looked at Trixie's bedside. It had been a touching sight for her to see, especially with her inner knowledge of their unexpressed feelings for each other. His chair had been as close to her bedside as he could have made it. Before he had fallen asleep, he must have leaned forward, with his redhead cradled on his arms on her bed, only a hairbreadth away from her hip, and Trixie's hand resting on his shoulder, as if she had unconsciously known that he was there, just waiting for her. She could only imagine how Trixie was going to feel when she woke up and found him at her bedside. "I didn't have the heart to wake him up, Brian, even though it was my turn to stay with Trix. I put an extra blanket over him instead." She gave a small laugh that wasn't quite as merry as it normally was, showing her bone-weary exhaustion better than the violet smudges that had taken up residence under her soft hazel eyes. "Jim is going to have quite a pain in his neck when he wakes up."

"Mart and Dan fell asleep, too. I thought that the coffee they chugged down before going into each room would have helped them stay awake but it looks like the famous hospital brew ended up failing us." Brian tugged on the sleeve of his sweatshirt and added with a wry grin, "Dan's got to be luckiest out of all three of them. For some reason there is a recliner in Larry's room. It looks really comfortable. He was kicked back and about as relaxed as if he was napping at home." Thinking about the unexpected furniture in Larry's room, he looked around at the pieces in the waiting room, for the first time noticing them and how mismatched they were, only adding to the odd appeal of the waiting room. The long sofa was a dark tan, with deep cushions on it, and was also a bit shabby and worn but surprisingly comfortable to sit on. Then there was the beige and rose armchair that Honey was sitting in, with two more on the other side of the sofa that clashed with it in a too-bright red. Overall, it was not a room that created peaceful or tranquil feelings. It looked more like it had been thrown together on some crazy whim of the hospital staff. Brian shrugged his shoulders, deciding that most of the furniture must have been donated from the citizens of Sleepyside. It was the only possible explanation for such an interesting collection.

"How about Mart?" Honey questioned suddenly. She pulled her legs up under her, tucked the pillow behind her, and attempted to get as comfortable as she possibly could in her chair. There didn't seem to be a relaxing position at all. Sighing, she gave up after a few minutes and prepared herself for a horrible night of rest. "How is he sleeping?"

Brian recalled the picture of his slumbering brother and cocked an eyebrow. "He has those long, long legs, you know. He must have been pretty uncomfortable having only the one chair to sit in but he solved the problem. He made himself a neat little bed by pulling up another chair to rest his legs on. It looks a little awkward but I think he'll manage to sleep the entire night through without a problem. He was holding Di's hand, too." It was Brian's turn to laugh, even though it was just as tired and devoid of mirth as Honey's had been. "I was able to sneak a pillow under his head without waking him up. He let out a good snore but that was it. I don't doubt that he'll feel like Jim when he wakes up in the morning. He's not going to be comfortable either." But he was going to be happy. He was going to wake up in Di's room.

"So much for our rotation," Honey remarked sarcastically, covering a yawn with her hand and huddling under her blanket. "It seems we've been left out in the cold. It certainly didn't work out the way that we expected it to. I guess we should have set up something different." She played with the edge of her blanket, thinking about her friends sleeping in their hospital beds. At least they all had someone with them, she thought to herself, even though she wished that she could have spent at least part of the night with one of them. Di, Trixie or Larry; it wouldn't have mattered to her. The urge to help ran deep within her. She was rather disappointed that she was being denied her only way to assist her friends.

"It's not such a bad deal, Honey. Everyone has someone to sit with them, which is what we were aiming for." As much as he would have liked to be with his sister when she woke up, he had a strong suspicion that she would be overly delighted to wake up to Jim instead. He fought back a yawn himself and stretched his arms. "We're not going to need to relieve anyone for the rest of the night. Maybe we should follow their lead and try for some sleep ourselves." He glanced down at his watch and noted the time with a great deal of astonishment. "It's almost two o'clock in the morning. Believe it or not, I am finally starting to feel exhausted."

Honey threw him an annoyed look, knowing that she wasn't going to be able to rest at all. There simply wasn't anyway that she could get comfortable in her chair, no matter how much her body was starting to beg for a long-overdue rest. "I don't think that's going to be possible, Brian. At least, not for me," she remarked sardonically. She patted the armrest of her chair. "This chair is not made for sleeping."

"Sorry about that, Honey." Irritated with himself for not realizing her predicament earlier, Brian practically jumped out from his corner and motioned for her to come over to the sofa. "You should take the sofa. It's much better than that chair, Honey. You'll be surprised how nice it feels." He grabbed his blanket and pillow, more than willing to vacate it for her. "Come on over. I'll switch with you."

Much too tired to argue, much too sore and achy from their wild search through the woods only a few hours before, Honey climbed out of the chair and moved over to the sofa, clutching her pillow, with her blanket trailing behind her like she was a five-year old getting ready for her afternoon nap. "You don't have to give up the sofa for me, Brian," she told him even though she didn't waste any time in sitting down in his recently vacated spot. She sank down onto the sofa, feeling how the cushions were still warm from his body heat. It felt like heaven to her.

"I don't mind, Honey," he assured her truthfully. "Not at all. You'll have a much better chance of getting some sleep over there." He couldn't help but notice how she cute she looked, cuddled on the sofa with her head resting against the pristine white of the pillowcase and a tiny smile on her lips. He had a startling vision of sleeping princesses and happily ever afters before he shook the tantalizing fantasy away and pulled the one of the ugly red chairs over so that they were facing each other. It wasn't going to be the best bed in the world but it would do, he decided after studying his choice for the rest of the night.

She barely resisted the urge to hum her approval at her change in seating arrangement. Her body was already happily adjusting to the big, soft cushions and the extra room. "You could share with me, if you want to," she offered generously, gesturing to the sofa. "It's big enough and soft enough. You could have the other corner while I take this one." When he didn't answer, she insisted again, in case he hadn't heard her, "We'll both fit. It's big enough, Brian."

No, it wasn't, Brian thought to himself as he looked up from his attempt to make a bed for himself out of the two chairs. As much as he would like to take her up on that offer and spend the night with her on the sofa, he realized it would only cause a whole new slew of problems. First of all, they were in a public place where anyone could walk through the door at anytime. He could only imagine the gossip that would circulate through the hospital, and then the small town of Sleepyside, if they were to be found, asleep together, on the same sofa in the relative privacy of the waiting room. It would add even more to the stories of the evening that were most likely already circulating throughout their town. There wasn't anything quite like small-town gossip. He imagined that every telling of Trixie's and Di's adventures was getting more and more elaborate with each passing second. Then there was that face that Matthew Wheeler was her father. Brian didn't need to have a solid three-point-nine-four grade point average to know that Honey's father would not be pleased at all if he were to find out that they spent the night together, alone, on a sofa, even if it was completely innocent and in a hospital waiting room. Third, there was the simple fact that it would be tempting for his own senses. He wouldn't be able to trust himself or his own potentially wandering hands. Clearing the sudden clog in his throat, he voiced roughly, "Thanks for the offer, Honey, but I think I'll take a leaf from Mart's book. I've already made a nice bed over here. Mart would be proud of me." He sat down, putting his long legs on the opposite chair, and fluffed his pillow before leaning back. He couldn't see her face from his new position, just the back of the armrest of the sofa and her pillow. "See? It's a great bed."

Honey peeped up over the sofa, her eyes large and solemn, and barely containing her amusement. "Are you sure you're going to be comfortable over there?" Feeling immensely better resting within the soft, plush cushions of the sofa, she slipped off her shoes and placed them neatly on the floor before pulling her blanket over her, settling in with a small sigh of comfort. Other than the fact that she couldn't see Brian unless she poked her head over the side of the sofa, it was a perfect arrangement for her. She stretched her legs out, taking up a good deal of space on the sofa, and sighed again. Sleep may actually come to her, she thought happily.

"Of course," Brian lied easily. He thumped his pillow and smiled to himself, knowing that she couldn't see his face. "I doubt if I'll have any problem falling asleep tonight." The second lie came even easier. He didn't mind sacrificing for Honey, even if it meant that he would face a night of uncomfortable sleep so that she would be able to sleep. Besides, he realized with a fatalistic shrug, it wasn't like he would be able to get much sleep anyway, not with his sister and one of his good friends in the hospital. The arrangement suited him perfectly.

"It must be odd for you to be on the receiving end," Honey commented, bringing an end to the silence surrounding them. "I mean, for you to be waiting in the hospital, instead of working in one. It's got to be more difficult for you, when you have to sit and wait instead of doing something, well, you know, doctorly, or something along that lines." Fervently wishing that the floor would open up and swallow her whole, feeling stupid for beginning this conversation in the first place, she felt the blush work its way across her cheeks and was pathetically thankful that he couldn't see her face. "Do you know what I mean?" she asked in a final attempt to make sense of her jumbled attempt at a conversation.

Brian bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. It was hard but he managed to do it, for her sake. There was nothing quite like a Honey-speech gone bad, he thought with an inward chuckle that he didn't dare let out, not wanting to make her feel embarrassed. "I know what you mean," he replied in a tone that he hoped didn't sound patronizing. "It is harder. I would much rather be doing something 'doctorly', instead of waiting in here." He copied Honey and took off his own shoes. "At least the company's good."

"Hmm," Honey managed to get out, startled by his admission, and feeling a small swarm of butterflies start to take up residence in her stomach. Staring off into space, trying to think of something to take her mind off the fact that they were all alone in the room, she recalled their mad dash through the woods to try and find his sister, as well as her brother. She could almost visualize the dark that had seemed everywhere, with only the thin light of Brian's flashlight able to penetrate it. It had been one of the most terrifying experiences of her life. She shivered despite the warm blanket around her shoulders. As thankful as she was that everything turned out all right, she would never forget that one horrible moment when she found Trixie and Jim lying on the ground after the loud, unforgiving sound of the gunshot and then had thought the absolute worst had happened to them."I don't ever remember being as scared as I was tonight," she shared in a small voice that made her seem much younger than she really was. "I know that Trixie and I have found ourselves in some precarious positions before but this one right here...it frightened me so much, Brian, much more than most of our other escapades."

He preferred her ramblings to the sad, almost lost quality to her voice. "There were some times that scared the hell out of all of us, like the time you were kidnapped in Missouri or when you were sent into the Hudson River in that car," Brian put in after Honey lapsed into another moment of silence. Those two particular times still had the power to scare him, as well as the other Bob-Whites. It had been exceedingly close to a horrifying end to the two female detectives. The Bob-Whites had made an unwritten rule to never discuss them.

"Yes, those were pretty scary events," she agreed thoughtfully, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. It felt odd to hear his voice but not to be able to look at him but she couldn't find the strength to turn around and face him. "I don't know, Brian, but tonight seemed so much worse, even though I wasn't the one in danger. Maybe it's because I didn't know what was going on or why it was happening. I can remember sitting at home, watching the seconds tick by on the clock, wondering what I should do, and jumping every single time the phone rang." Her laugh was tinged with the smallest amount of hysteria to it. "It was your mother, every time. I knew it was her from the caller id. Then I would try and call everyone's cell phones and no one would answer." She felt a fresh set of tears prick her eyes but blinked them away furiously. "It was horrible, Brian."

"That's how we feel a lot of the time," Brian shared with her, smiling slightly to take the sting out of his words. "Most of the time you and Trixie are miles ahead of us when it comes to one of your mysteries. It generally takes us a while before we can catch up to you. By then, we're usually coming in at the tail-end, when you two have already put it all together." He leaned farther back in his chair, slightly surprised that it was more relaxing than he had expected it to be.

She didn't take offense to the truth of his words, understanding his position now more than ever. It was not enjoyable in the least to be on the outside looking in instead of part of the action. "Sorry about that, Brian," she acknowledged a trifle sorrowfully. "It's not something Trixie or I ever intentionally do, you know."

It generally was a little on the intentional side but Brian didn't point that out to her, not wanting to make her feel guilty. "You and Trixie make quite a team, Honey. You've both been very successful. I'll bet you anything that she will feel terrible in the morning when she thinks about her decision to go into the woods after Di without you," he told her correctly, hoping to soothe any wounded or ruffled feathers that Honey may have from Trixie's impetuous but much-needed actions. "You know you were the first person she called after the police, right?"

Honey did know that. She let a smile dance briefly across her face. The fact that Trixie had tried to include her in the final showdown made her feel valued and trusted. Trixie would never willingly let her down, that she knew to the depths of her soul. "I don't know if 'looking forward' is the correct phrase but I am 'looking forward' to finding out everything that happened tonight. I have a lot of questions for Trixie and for Di, once they are up to answering them." Her fingers nervously played with her gold chain. "I am sorry that we sometimes haven't including you or the rest of the Bob-Whites in our adventures," she added quietly.

"It's part of what makes the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency work so well," he answered swiftly. "The dynamics between you and Trixie make it work, Honey. I can speak for the rest of us when I say that we've become somewhat used to your rather unorthodox investigative styles. You can't argue with results. You and Trixie definitely get the job done, no matter how difficult or puzzling it may be."

"You have to admit that we've gotten better over the years," Honey replied with an actual laugh, finding an enjoyment in remembering their past adventures with Brian. It felt good to discuss them, especially when she didn't feel any recriminations or censure coming from him. All she felt was unconditional support. Honey let the feeling comfort her as much as the solid cushions of the sofa enveloped her exhausted body. "Believe it or not, it didn't take that much prodding from me before I was able to get Trixie to tell everyone what was happening to her. All I had to do was force her to talk to Jim."

He agreed with a nod of his head. "Yeah. She wasn't as stubborn about clueing us in as she used to be. That's definitely an improvement." He stretched his arms and laid his head back against the pillow. Talking to Honey had an extremely soothing effect on him. He could almost forget that he was sitting on two rather uncomfortable chairs, in a hospital waiting room, while he was listening to her speak. He wondered how he had become lucky enough to spend the entire night with her, alone, without another Bob-White in attendance. "As you said earlier, at least it is over. Trixie, Di and Jim will heal and we'll all be able to move on."

"Right." Honey watched the way the moonlight filtered in through the blinds, thinking that it was just their luck that the moon would come out from behind the clouds now, when they didn't need the light to search the woods. Then she closed her eyes but couldn't seem to block out the harshness of the fluorescent lights.

Brian was having the same problem. He climbed out of his makeshift bed, walked over to the door, and turned off the first set of the overhead lights, knowing better than to turn off both sets of lights. Instantly the lighting in the room was softer, much less harsh, and more conducive for sleep. "Is that better?"

Honey tugged the blanket up. If she closed her eyes really, really hard, she could almost imagine that she was in her bedroom. Then again, if she was home, in her bedroom, Brian wouldn't be only an arm's length away. It was easy for her to admit to herself that she rather preferred the unexpected set-up to the solitude and comfort of her own room. "Much better," she whispered, experiencing a deep, and completely unexpected, feeling of contentment, brought on by his nearness. "Thanks, Brian. You must have been reading my mind. I think I may actually be able to fall asleep now."

Brian got back into his 'bed', completely missing the underlying meaning behind Honey's initial words. Also a little astonished by the fact that the two of them were relatively alone within walls of the hospital, extremely grateful for the unexpected treasure, he searched around for something else to talk about, finally settling on the upcoming day. "What were your plans for today, Honey? I know we were supposed to have a Bob-White dinner later on. I have a strong feeling that will be postponed."

"Me, too," Honey agreed quickly. "Somehow I doubt anyone will really be ready for a dinner. Trixie and Di will probably spend most of the day asleep. I wouldn't be surprised if the rest of us nap away a good part of the day, too." There was a rustling sound as she tried to find the best spot on the sofa. "Trixie and I were supposed to go shopping for prom dresses later today." Chuckling lowly, she added sarcastically, "I would have to say that shopping is definitely out, too."

He arched an eyebrow, surprised that neither Honey nor Trixie had a dress with less than a week before the prom. He wasn't well-versed in the ways of high school girls and the much-looked-forward-to dance, having missed his own prom, but he had a strong suspicion that most girls already had their dresses bought by now. It didn't surprise him that Trixie would have put it off. She wasn't one for dresses of any kind, fancy or not, but Honey… "You don't have your dress yet?" He couldn't keep the astonishment out of his voice.

She was glad that he couldn't see the slight flush tint her cheeks a rosy red. "No, Brian. Trixie and I never seemed to make time to go shopping. Di has had her dress for ages. She's already for it. I can't see her missing out on going, either. She won't want to not go, especially since Mart is her date." She glanced up at the ceiling, her fingers playing with the edge of her blanket. "It's probably a good thing, though."

"What do you mean by that?" A little out of his league, certainly not used to talking to a young woman about a dress or a prom, Brian was still interested enough to prompt another confidence from her. It allowed him to see yet another side of Honey; plus, he was just plain curious.

"Well, you saw Trixie. I seriously doubt if she's going to be able to make it to the prom. She's a little too bruised up and, with the state of her ribs, I really don't think that she will be up to any type of dancing. Walking is going to be difficult enough for her," Honey explained carefully and with a smidgeon of regret. It would have been fun to attend the prom with her two best friends, even if her date wasn't the one she had dreamed about. "I heard the doctor tell your parents that she won't be able to go to school this week, too. There is simply no way she'll be making it to the prom."

He wasn't able to connect the dots, well out of the sphere of high school and the intricacies of its student population."What does that mean for you?" he inquired, puzzled. "There's no reason why you shouldn't be able to go. It won't hurt Trixie's feelings. I don't think she was all that excited about it, anyway."

"I see you have forgotten how high school works," Honey teased gently. "You see, our prom dates are really good friends, best friends, even. That's kind of how Di and I were able to nudge Trixie into going with Alex. The six of us were planning on going to the prom together and we have a table together. Anyway, once Trixie cancels out on her date, I'm sure mine will cancel on me," Honey finished on a rush without too much remorse. It wouldn't be that big of a deal, she thought philosophically. The experience itself had been a big reason behind her desire to go, not her date. She had wanted to spend time with her best friends. "So, there you have it, Brian. Trixie will have to cancel on Alex. Then Michael will end up canceling on me. See? It's simple. That leaves Mart and Di. They will probably have the table all to themselves." There wasn't an ounce of sadness to her voice. She had already prepared herself for it and had come up with an alternative plan for the evening. Movies with her best friend sounded like a terrific idea.

"Well, if he is stupid enough to cancel on you, I'll be glad to take you in his place," Brian responded hastily without thinking. Once the words were out of his mouth, he had one instant to regret his quick decision, mainly because he wasn't certain how their parents would take the decision and if it would compromise the promise he had made nearly three years earlier, even though he suddenly realized how much he would like to take her to the famous high school ritual. When she peeped over the edge of the sofa again and smiled at him, the soft, sweet, happy smile that always managed to cause an answering pull within him, he forgot about regrets and smiled back.

Suddenly hoping that one Michael Hartman would disappear off the face of the planet and soon, Honey's lovely eyes twinkled with pure happiness. She almost pinched herself to prove that she had just heard him right. Lifting her eyebrows, she informed him, "You do realize that I'll hold you to that offer, Brian Belden, if Michael does back out on me."

He doubted if Matthew Wheeler would object if he became his daughter's escort, especially if her first date dropped her only a few days before the prom. At least, he hoped her father wouldn't mind. He had a thought that maybe he had reacted too swiftly but the expression on her face calmed his doubts. If worse came to worse, he could play the 'friend helping out a friend' card to their parents. It would work, should either of them have a problem with it. "Just let me know, Honey. I'd be glad to step in to help you, if you should need it," he said, meaning every single word.

Honey dropped back down on the sofa, hidden from his view. She was glad he couldn't see the wide smile that was nearly splitting her face in half, as well as the way her eyes sparkled with absolute joy, suddenly feeling giddy and excited all at once. Crossing her arms under her blanket, she had to resist the strong urge to get up and perform a silly dance. "I'll let you know," she said after she was relatively certain her voice wasn't filled with too much exhilaration.

The chairs felt much better to him. He fluffed up his pillow and got as comfortable as his long limbs and the two chairs would allow him to. Then he glanced over at the sofa, wishing he could see Honey's face instead of the back of her pillow, and pictured her on his arm, getting ready to head into the prom. The vision felt right, as if it was something that fate wanted to make happen. Escorting Honey Wheeler to her high school prom. Brian couldn't contain it. His smile matched hers in brilliance. He hoped that her date canceled on her; the sooner, the better, as far as he was concerned. "Have a good night, Honey. Sleep well."

She wasn't sure if she was going to be able to sleep now. Her exhaustion was gone, to be replaced with anticipation about the prom and her potential date. Honey cleared her throat before replying, "You two, Brian. I'll see you in the morning." She curled her legs up underneath her, patted her pillow, and tried her best to fall asleep but it turned out to be a nearly impossible feat. Her fatigue had been chased away by the possible fact that Brian may be the one to bring her to the prom. She started making a list in her mind of all the things that she would need to do with much more excitement and anticipation that before and had to resist the urge to start giggling like the schoolgirl she still was. Suddenly prom night looked much more interesting than it had been before. Now all she needed was for her prom date to dump her. She hoped and prayed that would happen.


	42. Chapter 41

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Forty-One

There seemed to be a soft, misty fog surrounding her, one that had a nearly invincible hold of her mind, and one that wouldn't allow her to come fully awake. She was lost in that eerie place that existed somewhere between dreams and reality. The simple act of opening her eyes required too much energy. Her eyelids felt too heavy and refused to lift. She couldn't find it within her to actually complete the easy task. Releasing a small groan at her inability to move, she slowly became aware that she was very uncomfortable, stiff, and sore. Her entire body seemed to throb with a faint ache that didn't seem to want to go away. It persisted despite her best intentions to ignore it. After a moment she zeroed in on the most painful place: her stomach, puzzled by the taut feel around it. Her eyebrows furrowed together. It felt a lot tighter than she could ever remember it being, as if there was something unyielding wrapped around it. Bewildered by the odd sensation, she wondered what it could be and why it seemed to be pressing against the wall of her ribcage. It took nearly a Herculean effort but she brought a hand up to her stomach and slowly rubbed around it in an attempt to alleviate the sensation. It didn't work. The tautness remained.

Trixie was disappointed at her inability to end the ache, as well as her failure to figure out what exactly was sore. She slowly became conscious of the fact that even the act of breathing was different. Generally an easy act, one that she always taken for granted, she couldn't believe how difficult it was and how much energy it required to complete it. The air came in and out with small, deliberate breaths instead of her normal, unconscious rhythm. Frowning, she wondered why she couldn't put her finger on why it was so hard for her achieve such a mundane task. When she rubbed a hand over her face, she nearly jumped, surprised to find yet another ache on her body. She started to feel as if she was Alice on her famed flight through Wonderland. Nothing was making sense to her and she couldn't pull herself fully awake to figure out what was wrong with her.

Then she felt an odd weight down by her hip but she didn't have the immediate desire to find out what it was, overwhelmed and a trifle frightened, and still unable to chase away the remaining sleep that continued to throw its heavy cloak around her. It felt almost like Reddy had climbed up on the bed to sleep with her, the way she had let him do when he was a puppy before her parents had found out about it and had absolutely forbade her to let him sleep with her. Her other hand was resting on something solid, right beside the object near her side. She moved her fingers experimentally, feeling something that was short, crisp and felt suspiciously like hair. Hair that definitely belonged to a human, not a canine.

The fog catching her in that dreamlike state between sleep and awareness started to dissipate, slowly releasing her from its bonds. She started to focus on the most pressing question. Where was she? Using her curiosity as a springboard, Trixie cracked open a blurry eye to the sight of the strange room, forgetting about the weight by her side. Biting back a gasp, she turned her head quickly, emitting a small groan at the sharp pain the motion caused in her side. She looked past it, noting the unfamiliarity of the room. It didn't even come close to resembling her warm and inviting bedroom at Crabapple Farm. Instead, it was small and clinical, with a curtain covering the lone window. Sunlight streamed through the curtain, brightening the room up, and proving to her the time of day. She couldn't figure out why she was in such a room until each memory of the night before came flooding back to her all at once, shocking her with its ugly brilliance and serving as a vicious reminder of her why she was in such pain. Feeling a mixture of relief that she was alive and renewed terror at the potent strength of the awful memories, she sagged against the pillow, all energy gone, and finally understood why her body felt so stiff and sore and where she was. She was in a hospital, having been brought there from the woods in an ambulance, recovering from her injuries. Bringing her hand back up to her face, she slowly traced the swollen side of her cheek, feeling the tender area, and recalling vividly how she had received the bruise. Her face almost started to sting with the remembrance, as if the memory had as much power to hurt her as the actual action. She didn't need a mirror to know that the bruise Britten had left behind covered up a good portion of her face. Dropping her hand in resignation, she decided that she couldn't let that bother her, not overly much. She would have to deal with it, to let it heal, and then to do her best to move on from it. Her hand landed back on whatever it was that had taken up residence by her side.

Surprised, having forgotten all about it, she glanced down at the end of her bed, finding the source of the weight at her side, and recognizing the back of the redhead immediately. Just the easy act of looking at him chased away much of the renewed terror she had been feeling. It calmed her and soothed her like nothing else could have. She tilted her head to the side, watching him, and felt her world, which had gone topsy-turvy only a few hours earlier, begin to right itself again. It was Jim, of course it was Jim, fast asleep, lying with his head next to her hip, with her hand on top of his shoulders. Her fingers brushed against his head of their own accord, feeling the texture of the short hair. His mere presence made her feel better than any medicine ever could, made her fully realize that the nightmare she had lived through was really over and wouldn't come back to haunt her in the bright light of the day. Nighttime, she realized with a blinding flash of insight, would be a different story, at least for the time being. She wouldn't be able to escape from them there. Her face briefly reflected the hopelessness of the memories created by Tilney Britten. Shaking it off the best that she could, she stared down at Jim, wishing that he would have fallen asleep with his face facing her instead of the back of his head. Even though she knew his features as well as she knew the back of her hand, she would have loved to have seen his face. Her lips turned up into a tiny smile as she realized that he had chosen to spend the entire night with her in the hospital, touched by the gentle gesture. It meant more to her than anything possibly ever could.

A memory from the previous night tugged at the edges of her mind, one she hadn't focused on before or had attempted to interpret during the intense struggle for their lives. It hadn't registered then, had not been nearly as important to her at the time as the gun that had been jammed under her chin. Against her will, she had been pressed up against that horrible man while Jim had crouched on the ground, waiting for his chance to strike. His voice, that damn voice that she would probably be able to hear for an exceedingly long time to come in her many nightmares, started ringing loudly in her ear, taunting Jim and insisting that he had terrible taste in women. For the first time, Jim's response became crystal clear in her mind. _"I have the absolute best taste," _he had shot back with an intensity that she could practically feel now. He had said it with such fierceness and something else that sounded suspiciously like the truth behind his forceful words. "The absolute best taste," she whispered aloud, paraphrasing the words and trying them out on her lips, and curious about his meaning. She craned her neck, staring down at him again, her blue eyes puzzled and bewildered, and pondered what he had meant by it. Could it be as simple as it sounded? Was it true? Or was it something that he had been spurred into saying in the heat of the moment? Trixie wasn't certain, could only begin to guess at what he had meant, but the memory brought a funny, unfamiliar, almost exhilarating feeling to the pit of her stomach. How she wished his words were as simple and as true as they sounded. Knowing better than to move her aching body, she continued to stare, hoping to decipher his meaning by looking at him. It didn't help give her any answers, only made her more perplexed, but it was certainly more pleasant to think about than the other experiences she had gone through the previous night. At least she had one memory of the night that wasn't completely horrific.

Whether from her whispered words or because he was beginning to feel that she was awake, he started to stir. With fascinated eyes, Trixie watched him come fully awake. Slightly embarrassed because she was still touching him, she pulled her hand back quickly and waited for him to see her, making a note of every move that he made. It was interesting watching him come awake. He was much more successful at it than she had been that morning.

Jim lifted his head, stretched his neck, and glanced around the room with only a slight confusion until he recalled where he was and who he was with. It came back much faster to him than it had to her. Then he sat up swiftly, his back ramrod straight, and completely ignored the cricks and creaks in his body from his rather unorthodox method of sleeping. He whipped his head around to find Trixie, his face lighting up with unconcealed happiness the moment when he saw that she was already fully awake. He didn't waste another second. "Hey, Trix. Look at you," he murmured softly, scooting his chair over until he was even with her face, with his knees brushing up against the metal frame, and the widest smile she had ever seen splitting his handsome but battered face. "You're up." He captured her hand within both of his and held on, hoping to infuse his own strength into her.

"Good morning, Jim." Trixie's eyes roamed over the bruises and cuts on his cheek, taking them in with a small sigh of sorrow and a niggling feeling of guilt that she couldn't quite dispel. Biting her bottom lip, she couldn't deny the fact that he had earned them by fighting for her. He had been hurt because of her. It was yet another burden to add to her growing list, right next to all the promises she had broken the evening before and what she perceived as her failure to outwit Britten on her own. She glanced down at their joined hands and saw the white bandage on his arm, as well as the tattered edge of his sleeve, and remembered the ugly, bloody gash. "Your arm, Jim!" she exclaimed loudly, unable to take her eyes off it, imagining the row of stitches that was hidden from her view. She had forgotten about his wound.

He saw the bandage but was more surprised by the fact that he had forgotten to change into the clean clothes his mother had given him and that he was still in his old, ripped, and stained shirt. Arching an eyebrow, he decided with a philosophical shrug that it showed how much she meant to him. The thought of changing had slipped his mind the second he had seen her sleeping in the hospital bed. He caught the bag his mother had given him out of the corner of his eye, right at the edge of her bed, and figured he would change into his fresh clothes later. She was much more important to him than a clean shirt. "It's nothing, Trix. Don't worry about it." He was concerned about her, not his arm. His piercing emerald gaze missed nothing, from the blossoming bruise and raw cuts on her face to the way she held her upper body super still, which he found the most bothersome of all. Still and Trixie didn't go together at all. Even when she was sitting in a chair, part of her was generally still moving, whether it was a tapping foot or her fingers playing with something, such as a pen or her hair. It was odd to see her concentrate so hard on keeping her body perfectly still and told him more than words ever could how much pain she was actually in. "What about you?" he questioned carefully, attempting to draw it out of her and realizing before he began how futile that would be. Her pride wouldn't let her tell him the truth. "That's the most important question here, Trix. How are you feeling this morning?"

"A little tired, which is rather funny, considering the fact that I slept all night long. It must be the aftereffects of the medicine," she answered, trying out a tiny laugh. It didn't hurt her side too much, which surprised and pleased her. Maybe her ribs would heal quicker than she had thought. Then she felt the odd pull when she tried to adjust her body on the bed. Then again, maybe not, she thought, disappointed. She did her best to not move, not wanting to aggravate her side again. "I had a hard time waking up, probably from the aftereffects of my medicine."

"Are you sore?" Jim persisted, wanting to hear it from her even though he already knew the answer. "You don't need to be brave. You can tell me, Trixie."

Her smile wasn't quite as big this time, had more of a wry, dry edge to it, while the truth was evident in her eyes. "Just a little sore," she responded quietly, not adding that she would feel much better after a healthy dose of whatever pain medication the doctor had prescribed for her. She could use it, the sooner, the better, but she would be damned before she would call for it. Relying on pain medication was not her usual forte.

Keeping her hand within one of his, he reached out with the other, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear, his lips turning up at the ends. "Just a little," he repeated softly, seeing the fatigue on her face and the cloud of pain she couldn't hide from him in her eyes, and shaking his head at her. It was more than a little but he didn't call her on it, respecting her pride and her need for privacy. "Have the nurses been in to see you this morning?" he inquired instead.

She was caught up in the intensity of his gaze, had to really concentrate on what he had asked, and then needed to formulate an answer to his question. It took a few seconds before she was able to respond. Waking up to Jim Frayne was certainly lethal to her senses, was practically rendering her speechless. It was certainly a feeling she could get used to. She rather hoped that there was a next time for the experience but prayed that it wouldn't happen in a hospital again. "No, no, I don't believe so. I think I would have remembered that. Maybe," she added, her voice not quite as sure, and cocked her head to the side. "I only woke up a few minutes ago myself. It was really hard for me to wake up. I think I told you that already."

"Would you like me to send one in?" Jim was already poised to retrieve one.

"Goodness, no!" she refused with a quick burst of laughter that she cut short with a gasp she disguised as a cough. Laughing, she was discovering much to her chagrin, was something she wasn't going to be able to do for a long while. The normally easy action pulled too much at her ribs. She gently massaged the area, feeling the bandage underneath her hospital gown, and then heaved a small sigh. Here she was, dressed in an unattractive hospital gown, with bruises and cuts galore on her face, while the object of her affection sat by her side. She ran her free hand through her hair, imagining the way it must look with the tangle of curls, and sighed again. She doubted if she had ever looked worse in her entire life as she did that morning. It was a little disheartening. "I'll be fine, Jim, same as you. You don't need to worry."

She was persistent, he could tell. He gave in, knowing that a nurse would have to be in soon to start the morning rounds on the floor. He glanced towards the door, almost anticipating a nurse to come bustling through it at any moment. The floor was much busier than usual, with at least three patients that needed to be seen to. Trixie was probably last on the list since she had been the final one to come in last night. She would get what she needed soon. "All right, Trix. We'll wait for the nurse. How did you sleep last night?" He looked her up and down, thinking that she was the most wonderful thing he had ever had the pleasure of seeing, and completely unaware of how she perceived herself to look. She was alive and breathing. That was all that mattered to him.

"Surprisingly good." Trixie closed her eyes, trying to recall the aftermath. Her memory was crystal clear on all of the events of the evening, leading right up to the end. Then it got a little fuzzy for her. The last thing she could remember with absolute clarity was riding to the hospital with Honey clinging to her side in the ambulance. Everything after that was a blur, from the time she had entered the hospital to the room where she had her X-rays to when she was deposited in her current room. It was vague. She had spent a good deal of the time going in and out of consciousness as a way to escape the pain. "It's odd but the last thing I really remember is talking to my mother here, in this room. I was able to hold it together for awhile and not fall asleep on her. I apologized to her but she didn't want it. She's not mad at me, by the way. I thought she was going to be," she put in an aside, relief evident on her face.

"I didn't think either of your parents would be angry with you." Well aware of how much Helen and Peter Belden loved their children, Jim didn't believe either of them would have any problems forgiving and overlooking Trixie's involvement. Over the years, Trixie had given her more than enough practice at it. Every time, they had treated her with respect. Last night had been an extremely unusual case. They couldn't argue with the fact that she had tried her best to help out a friend in dire need and had succeeded immensely. There was no way of knowing what could have happened to Di if Trixie hadn't stepped in. He doubted if it would have been pleasant.

"I think I may have seen Mart, too. Was he here last night?" The memory was vague, almost as if she had dreamed it, but she seemed to remember him talking to her. If her memory served her right, and she wasn't about to put a lot of stock in it since it was on the fuzzy and cloudy side, she seemed to remember that he had been looking down at her, possibly after giving her a brotherly kiss on the forehead. Her eyebrows pulled together, frustrated at her lack of clarity.

Jim agreed with a short nod. "Yes. Mart was here. He still is. I think." He looked at the closed door with a slightly guilty expression to his face. He had managed to stay in the room with her the entire night, which had been his intention all along, but now, in the bright light of the day, he wondered how the others had felt about it, especially her brothers. Shrugging it off, he came to the surprising conclusion that he was more selfish than he had ever thought he was. When it came to Trixie, he was more than willing to grab all the time that he could, without as much consideration for the others as he would normally have. Pursing his lips together, he realized that it didn't matter overly much to him that he had monopolized the night with her. To him, it was a case where the ends definitely justified the means. "Everyone is at the hospital, of course, or at least they were when I fell asleep in here last night." He managed a weak chuckle, coloring slightly. "No one would have left. We couldn't go home with you and Di in the hospital," he explained when she lifted her eyebrows.

Trixie gifted him with a thankful smile, cheered by his words. Her family and friends had stayed for her and for Di. If situations had been reversed and another Bob-White had found themselves in a hospital bed, she wouldn't have been able to leave, either. The bond the seven of them shared ran extremely deep, much deeper than someone like Tilney Britten could ever damage or destroy. Refusing to think about him, she latched on to what Jim had said about the other injured Bob-White. "Have you heard anything else about Di?" she asked suddenly, unconsciously squeezing his hand, and curious about the welfare of her friend. She sent up a quick prayer that Di was all right. She tried but couldn't recall hearing any news about her.

"Only that she has a concussion," he responded swiftly, one hand still covering hers and giving her hand an answering squeeze back. He started to trace small circles on the back of her hand, wanting to relieve the tension he could feel starting to build within her. "I believe that both of you will be able to go home today, once the doctor has seen you and cleared you." He didn't add that she had been ordered to stay out of school for the entire week, coming to the decision that was news her family should share with her. Narrowing his eyes, he thought about how she would take the news. A week off from school wouldn't be that bad. He made a promise to himself to visit her as much as possible.

"Home." She spoke the word softly and with a great deal of reverence, as if it was the sweetest, loveliest place in the world. To her, it was. "Oh, Jim. Home. I would love to go home. That would be wonderful." Trixie settled against her pillows, excited about the prospect of going home, and felt peace start to steal across her. Images of Crabapple Farm floated through her mind, exactly as they had when she had been running for her life through the forest. "I certainly hope so. It would be the best thing in the world to go home today."

Jim saw the time on the clock. It wasn't even seven o'clock in the morning. "I find it hard to believe that we were getting ready to call Sergeant Molinson yesterday at this time," he shared, a tone of wonder to his voice. It seemed like it couldn't have been only yesterday that they were attempting to figure out the identity of her stalker. Time had taken on a new meaning over the past twenty-four hours. While it was only a mere twenty-four hours since they had put Sergeant Molinson onto a new and extremely correct track in the investigation, it felt like it had happened eons ago, almost a lifetime ago. So much had happened. It was nearly impossible for him to comprehend it all. "What a difference a day makes."

Trixie felt the same way, too. Lost in thought, she remembered the different events that had shaped the past week and a half of her life. The most notable parts that kept sticking out to her was the unconditional support and encouragement he had given her throughout the entire ordeal, from the time she had fallen off of Susie before they had even known there was danger lurking around them to this very morning, right here in her hospital room. He had never once criticized or lectured her through it all, and had always been very respectful of her thoughts and ideas. He couldn't have been more caring or helpful or Jim-like. It made a warm feeling start to grow within her, expanding when he smiled gently down at her, almost as if he could read her mind. It had been quite a week, she realized with a start. Certainly not one of the best of her life, but, as her brilliant sapphire eyes met and held his emerald green ones, she couldn't help but be grateful for all of the wonderful moments the two of them had shared together. The link that had started that long ago July morning was becoming longer and longer. If she possessed a little more courage, she would have asked him what he felt about it. However, her own insecurities got the better of her, wouldn't allow her to bring it up. Not yet. All she could manage was a simple, "Yes."

While he knew her well, he didn't know exactly how deep her insecurities were settled within her. But he could tell that there was something a little off about her. It puzzled him until he settled on the slightly incorrect fact that she was trying to hide her pain from him. "I was thinking last night that I find it hard to believe that I've only been home from school for…" He paused to calculate the amount of days in his mind. "Nine days now. It's been a very interesting vacation so far. College life is nowhere near as exciting as being back in Sleepyside." He stared at her, a grin flirting across his lips. "Do you think you'll be able to take a break from mysteries and life-threatening situations for awhile?"

She choked back another laugh, not offended in the least. "Don't make me laugh, Jim," she ordered him. "It hurts too much." When she was relatively certain that she had her sudden burst of humor under control, she promised as best as she could, "I'll do my best. Maybe we'll even be able to make it to graduation before something else happens. What do you think?"

"Graduation isn't that far away." Well aware of the exact number of days, could probably calculate the exact minutes and hours if he was asked to, he pretended to contemplate it for her sake. "Let's see. You have about four weeks of school left, right? I think you could give us about a month without anything too exciting happening. That wouldn't be too much to ask, would it?"

"Not at all." She pointed to her ribs with her free hand. "I don't think a month is too much to ask for. I feel like I've been run over by the biggest, fastest, heaviest vehicle out there. I won't mind a vacation from mysteries and other unpleasant things for awhile." It felt good to be teased and to tease back. It was normal. She decided that she liked normal.

"You'll be bored within a week," Jim joked playfully with a knowing look, his green eyes twinkling.

"Probably," she agreed slowly, her eyes suddenly shadowed and sad, the exact opposite of how he had expected her to react. She retrieved her hand from under his and started to pick at the edges of the blanket, staring down at it, with her mouth set in a small, thin line. Her voice took on a far-away quality as she interjected, "But I think the memories I have of this one will cure me of it awfully quick."

He didn't like how lost and alone she looked. It was the complete opposite from her normally joyful and outgoing personality. His own eyes went hot as he fervently wished that Britten was still alive so that he could have another crack at him. He would love to make that man pay in spades for what he had done to Trixie and to Di. He had a strong feeling there were a lot of people in Sleepyside who would be waiting in line with him. Giving her a minute to compose herself, he reached out and cupped her chin, gently turning her face back so that he could see it. He cleared his throat and said, "I'm here for you, Trixie, any time you want to talk about it."

"Not now," she refused quickly, shaking her head and sending her curls bouncing. The offer helped, as he knew it would. The shadow slowly receded from her face. She put it behind her as best as she could. "I hope you understand. I don't want to talk about it. Not yet. I only want to go home now."

"You will." The memories would have to be faced, he knew the truth of that from his own personal experiences of the two years of hell he had spent with his terrible stepfather, before she would be healed as much as she possibly could and then be able to move on. He disguised his intense perusal of her, taking in everything and not missing a thing, by the simple act of tucking her blanket around her. He kept his touch light and gentle, not wanting to aggravate her side at all, and tabled their discussion. "It won't be that long before you can go home. You'll probably have to suffer through a delicious hospital breakfast and maybe a lunch before they'll release you."

"Thanks, Jim." They were such simple words. She only hoped he knew what she meant, how much was encompassed by them. She had so much to thank him for, from helping her face Britten to spending the night with her in the hospital to the simple act of tucking her blanket around her. She covered his bigger hand with one of hers. "You can't know how much it means to me."

He turned his hand over, catching her hand with his. They had held hands numerous times in the years since they had met but the act had come to mean so much more to him. He didn't want to let her hand go. Sitting back down in his chair, he insisted gruffly, "I think I do, Trix. Really. I think I do."

There was that new look to his eyes again, the one that she had seen a few times before during the past week. Trixie caught her breath, trying desperately to dredge up the courage to ask him about it, when the door to her room creaked open. She stared at the door, not surprised to see a smiling nurse come through it, carrying a plastic cup and a bottle of water.

"Good morning," the nurse called out with extreme good cheer. She approached the bed and put her supplies onto the tall silver table that was made especially for hospital beds. She couldn't help but notice the other occupant in the room and looked at him expectantly.

Jim mumbled out a greeting and took the hint. "I'll see you in a few minutes, Trix."

Trixie smiled back up at him. "Thanks again. Give everyone my best, okay?" she asked, knowing that he would search out their friends as soon as he left her room.

"Will do." Jim reached down and traced her cheek with his thumb. The urge to lean in and kiss her was strong, almost the strongest he had ever felt it to be, but he couldn't do it, not with the knowing eyes of the nurse in the room. "'Bye, Trixie." He reached down and picked up his bag of clothes and then waved at her. "I'll be back in to visit you soon."

She felt alone, almost bereft, when he left the room. She stared after him, forgetting that she wasn't alone in the room, until she felt the nurse place the water bottle in her hand. "Oh!" Trixie exclaimed, obediently accepting the plastic cup that contained her pain medication. She swallowed it swiftly. It could have been her imagination or wishful thinking but the aches seemed to disappear the second she took it.

"That's a very nice boyfriend you have there," the nurse said conversationally while she began the process of taking her vitals. "Handsome, too. He must have spent the entire night in here with you."

Trixie watched the nurse as she efficiently attached the blood pressure cuff to her upper arm and started to take her blood pressure, feeling her cheeks begin to flame. "He is very nice but he's not my boyfriend. He's a very good friend," she explained softly.

The nurse arched an eyebrow and recorded the blood pressure. She took off the cuff, thinking back to how close he had been to her and the way they had been holding each other's hands. Then there was the fact that neither had been able to take their eyes off of each other for more than a few seconds. "I doubt that status will last long," she noted, chuckling. "You two will make an adorable couple."

Trixie leaned back against the pillows, curious about the nurse's perception. She opened her mouth to reply back but was suddenly overcome by a wave of exhaustion. Her eyelids were feeling heavy again and that damn fog was starting to gather around her, drawing her back in despite her resolve to stay awake. She tried to fight it but couldn't. It was too much. Before the nurse had finished taking her temperature, Trixie had once again fallen back into a much-needed sleep.


	43. Chapter 42

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Forty-Two

Her sleep this time wasn't as deep or nearly as long as the night before. The fog surrounding her mind wasn't as strong and the aches of her body had faded away. The pain medication had worked wonders, turning the agonizing throb into more of a delicate twinge. She didn't feel much pain at all, thanks to the wonders of modern medicine, and hovered in a comfortable state mere seconds away from full wakefulness. The sound of the door quietly opening penetrated her dulled senses, letting her know that she wasn't alone in the room anymore. Trixie turned her head in the direction of the person coming here way, assuming in her mind that it was Jim since he had been the last one in with her. "Hi, Jim," she mumbled lowly without opening her eyes, expecting to hear his deep voice answer her back.

"I'm not Jim," a familiar and decidedly feminine voice sounded back.

Trixie's eyes popped open, instantly awake. She found the source of the voice immediately. "Di!" she called out, her smile as wide as she could make it, and her face alight with happiness at the sight of her friend. She took in every detail of her friend, from the ugly, grey hospital gown with dark green swirls decorating it to the way she stood hesitatingly before her. "You're here! Oh, I've been wanting to see you since last night. You have no idea how much I've missed you."

The words of welcome helped propel her forward. Di came up against the bed, flushing a pretty rosy pink, and a little unsure what to do with her hands. Clasping and unclasping them in front of her, she stared down at one of her best friends; appalled by the way Trixie looked, and felt the painful sting of tears. She couldn't get past the fact that Trixie looked like she did because of her. The words she needed to say were lodged in her throat. She couldn't force them out, not past the lump that resided there.

Trixie wondered why her friend was so quiet, so still, and looked so lost. "Are you supposed to be out of bed, Di?" Trixie asked, carefully analyzing her words before she spoke them. Di looked much better than she had the last time she had seen her, doing that odd mixture of walking, running, and stumbling as she had made her way towards the Mr. Maypenny's cabin and sure safety, but she still seemed to be on the extremely fragile side. Trixie was worried by the way her eyes were swimming with unshed tears and hoped that Di didn't start crying. If she did, Trixie wouldn't be able to stop it. She would end up joining her.

"Probably not. I'm not sure." Her words were soft and measured. She didn't move her head. She had discovered the hard way that any sudden movements hurt her way too much. She had awakened with a killer headache that the pain medication hadn't completely chased away yet. It had successfully taken away the agonizing edge but the ache continued to stay just out of the reach of her medication. She rested her hand on her head, hoping to alleviate some of the pain. "I'm not sure, actually, Trixie. The nurse came in to check on me for the second time a few minutes ago and gave me my next dosage of medication. After she left, I, well, I left, too." She had quietly snuck out of her room, walking on tiptoes, and leaving a sleeping Mart behind. Then she had stealthily walked down the hallway, doing her best to avoid the bustling nurses who may have halted her journey. She hadn't wanted to take chances and had done her best to stay out of sight. She couldn't have stayed behind in her room. The need to see Trixie was too strong. She couldn't deny it, not for another minute, not for another second. She had to see Trixie. She faced her friend, the purple of the bruise on her forehead standing out against the whiteness of her face, and explained lowly, "I needed to see you, Trixie. I couldn't stay away." Her violet eyes took on an intensity Trixie had never seen in them before.

"You can't even begin to imagine how happy I am to see you," Trixie declared fiercely, hoping to put her friend at ease. "I've been needing to see you also, Di." It was plain to see that Di was nervous and hesitant around her. Trixie wanted to get to the bottom of it, although she had a pretty good idea why Di was not as warm and open as she normally was. The reason lay at the unmoving feet of one deceased Tilney Britten.

Both hands clasped in front of her again, Di contemplated the floor, unconsciously noting the pattern of dark blue, green and gray on the worn tiled floor, unsure how to begin, and possibly feeling the worst that she ever had felt in her entire life. The need to see Trixie had hit her the second she had opened her eyes and remembered where she was. It had been overwhelming, strong and undeniable. But, now that she was in the room with her friend, she wasn't sure how to begin. Just how, exactly, did one thank someone for saving their life and putting themselves in an extremely dangerous situation at the same time? Chewing on her bottom lip, Di couldn't come up with anything to say. She continued to star at the muted colors on the floor, strongly wishing that she possessed Mart's unending supply of words. His vocabulary was legendary and would have come in handy. 'Thank you' sounded so pitiful and inadequate. She didn't know what else to say, though.

Trixie watched her friend closely, correctly guessing the conflicting emotions that were parading across her pretty face. Reaching out, she grabbed Di's hand and pulled her closer to the bed. "Let me look at you," she mumbled, frowning as she studied the large bruise on Di's forehead. The only positive thing she could say about it was that it was currently Di's favorite color. She wanted to touch it, to soothe away the ache, but knew that she wouldn't be able to sit up without a great deal of agony herself. "That's quite a bump you have there, Di. It looks really painful." Her eyebrows pulled together. "You must have hit your head pretty hard."

She had. As much as she wished that she had lost all memories of the previous night, it wasn't the case. The memories were there, every word, every fear-filled second, and every ounce of pain. Di unconsciously brushed a strand of dark hair out of the way, heaving a deep sigh in the process. She hadn't been able to bring herself to study her bruise although she could tell that it was the most impressive one she had ever sported from simply touching it with her nervous fingers. "I haven't looked in the mirror yet," she responded soberly. "I don't know what it looks like, Trixie. I don't think I can bring myself to see it." It wasn't out of vanity. Di didn't want to witness the handiwork that Britten had left on her. At least it would fade and then go away, she realized. The memories were a different story. They may fade in time but they would never, ever, truly go away.

Trixie thought about the marks on her own face and felt a wave of sympathy roll over her for her friend. The experience they shared wasn't one that either wished to have in common but it had bonded them together in a way that they had never experienced before. It wasn't difficult for her to figure out how Di was feeling. She was experiencing the same emotions. "Believe me, I know what you're saying, Di. I haven't had the heart to look in a mirror either. Of course, I haven't even attempted to get out of this bed to get to the mirror." She wanted to laugh but decided against it. Her ribs were still sore from her last aborted effort with Jim. "You're in better shape than I am. Good for you, Di. I'm proud of you."

Her words were meant to comfort but they only made the waves of guilt pour over her with more forcefulness. She felt hot tears sting her eyes and held on to Trixie's hand with a death grip, unwilling to break the physical contact. "I'm so sorry, Trix," she managed to get out past a sob that was threatening to choke her. She swallowed hard but couldn't get the air down past the large lump that had taken up residence in her throat. "You can't even begin to guess how sorry I am," she mumbled quietly, her eyes downcast, and her breath coming in harsh hitches.

In spite of the fact that she knew it would physically hurt, Trixie reached out for Di, wanting to comfort her in with a hug. She bit back a moan when Di embraced her a little tighter than she should have. She didn't say a word, only let her friend cry and held on to her. She focused beyond the pain of her ribs to the sad young woman in her arms. The sobs that were coming from her were wrenching and awful. "It's okay, Di," she murmured softly over and over again. When it seemed that the tears were finally spent, she added, "You don't need to let it bother you anymore. We're both fine. We're going to continue to be fine. All of us are fine. That's all that matters. He can't touch us anymore."

Di pulled back, her face tear-stained and her eyes a vivid red from crying. "I know that, I really do," she said, her voice still raw and throaty from her recent bout with the tears. Part of her would never be able to fully comprehend that Britten was really and truly dead. "But I can't help feeling just terrible over this, Trixie." She gestured helplessly with her hands, flustered and sad. "It's not fair. It's not right. You're in the hospital. You're in here, Trix, because of me. Because of me!" she repeated with more force than necessary and a small stamp of her foot.

"No, no, no! You can't think of it that way," Trixie protested strongly, believing that if she spoke it loud enough, Di would actually believe it. "We are here because of a stupid, crazy little man who was insane enough to think that he could beat us." She paused, waiting until Di looked at her directly, and tried to bring a little humor into the situation. It wasn't anything to laugh about but the mood need to be lightened before it threatened to smother them both. She wasn't going to let that happen. She wasn't going to let that bastard of a man win. "He forgot that we are Bob-Whites, Di. You can't mess with a Bob-White and expect to come out on top. You think he would have learned that the first time around."

Her words had their desired effect. Di giggled, a small giggle, but a giggle nonetheless. Her smile was still watery, her violet eyes were still trimmed with red, but the guilt wasn't quite as strong and some color had returned to her face. She sighed and laced her fingers through her friend's, prepared to let her own feelings of guilt go. "I haven't thanked you, Trixie. I will never forget what you did for me. You saved my life last night." She made sure to look directly at her friend, hoping that Trixie could see how sincere she was.

"No, that's not true. You did that yourself," Trixie disagreed fiercely, the truth ringing out in her words as clear as the loudest of bells. She didn't see herself as a savior. She had assisted. She hadn't saved. "I only bought you a little time, Di. You're the one who fought him first and somehow distracted him long enough for me to find you. You're the one who trekked through the woods with a head injury. You're the one made it to the cabin. You did all of that on your own, Di. You saved yourself." She didn't want to belittle Di's part and certainly didn't want to take any credit. If anyone deserved credit, she figured it was Jim and Sergeant Molinson. They were the ones who had saved her and taken care of Tilney Britten in a dark yet extremely satisfying way. "You are amazing, Di."

She inhaled deeply, touched by Trixie's assessment. "I think you are." The tears were back but they weren't as painful this time or as hot. She blinked back a few before letting the rest fall. Then she gave Trixie yet another hug, holding on tight, and forgetting about the injury again. "You deserve thanks, no matter what you say," she whispered.

It was harder to keep the pain at bay but she did it, for her friend's sake. Poor Di had enough guilt to deal with. She wasn't about to add another helping on her already full plate. "No problem, Di," she squeaked out, gently disentangling herself from Di's embrace.

Reaching up, she smoothed back another loose strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear, recalling who Trixie had called out to when she had come into the room. She put two and two together and knew the answer even before she asked the question. "Did Jim spend the night in here?" She stared at the only chair in the room, seeing how close it was to Trixie's bed and picturing the scene in her mind perfectly.

"Yeah." It was her turn to blush. Suddenly finding her blanket extremely interesting, Trixie started playing with the edges of it. "He fell asleep in here last night," she shared quietly. "He was still here when I first woke up. I haven't seen anyone else yet this morning even though he told me that everyone spent the night in the hospital."

Di moved around to the other side of the bed and sat down gratefully into the chair, moving with a grace that Trixie couldn't help but admire. Even dealing with the consequences of a car accident and a horrific flight through the woods hadn't dampened Di's inborn poise and elegance. Trixie doubted if she would move as gracefully when she finally got out of the bed. "Mart was still sleeping when I left my room," Di shared, breaking into her friend's thoughts. "He had made a bed out of two chairs. Someone had given him a blanket and a pillow. He looked awfully cute."

She didn't have any trouble envisioning it, although she doubted if she would ever use the word 'cute' to describe her brother. Feeling bad for Mart, she realized how torn he would have felt last night. He wouldn't have wanted to leave either of their sides. Trixie was glad that he had chosen to stay with Di. The giddy sensation she had experienced at seeing Jim first thing that morning returned. She shook away her thoughts of Jim and focused on the conversation at hand. "Mart visited me for a while last night. I can actually remember him being in here. I don't remember what he said but I know he was here, right where you are now."

Di stared ahead, looking at nothing, eventually finding her voice and sharing part of her evening with Trixie. "The ride to the hospital was so fast. Mart drove Jim's Pathfinder. He had never driven it before. He had to have driven a good twenty miles over the speed limit. I remember thinking that the scenery was passing by way too fast and that it had nothing to do with my head. Mart did his best not to let me fall asleep. He talked to me nonstop the entire way. I couldn't keep up with him." It was actually very sweet now. He had been so earnest and so cute, all at the same time. She hadn't appreciated it at the time but, now that it was all over, she realized exactly how wonderful he had been to her. A large smiled wreathed her face.

"Honey kept me company on the ride in the ambulance." Trixie thought about their friends and the way they had pulled together to help their own. Mart had taken care of Di. Dan and Jim had been the first to search while Honey and Brian had brought up the rear. They were the amazing ones. There wasn't anything quite like a Bob-White, she thought to herself happily, beyond grateful for their simple presence in her life. "We certainly have the best friends ever, don't we, Di?"

The look she sent Trixie had an extra meaning behind it. Di prayed that she caught it. "The best, Trix. The best." She leaned forward and tapped Trixie on the knee. "I don't know what I would do without any of you. I can say with absolute certainty that I have the very best friends in the world."

Trixie smiled back at Di. Every ache, every pain, every bad memory had been worth it. Di was safe. It would take awhile but Trixie didn't have any doubt that everything would right itself in her world, soon enough. She wouldn't let the nightmare take over, no matter what she had to do to prevent it from happening. She wanted it to end, not to continue to strike out at her when she least expected it to.

There was a brief knock at the door, then it was pushed open and another Bob-White stepped over the threshold. "Hi, Trixie," Honey called out softly, rustling a bag in her hands from the doorway. "Are you awake?" She was already coming into the room before Trixie answered her, closing the door behind her with a soft click, more than eager to see for herself that her friend was fine.

Trixie and Di looked at each other, both excited about seeing Honey. "Yes," she replied, waiting for Honey to find out that she wasn't alone. "I'm up."

She came to a sudden stop in the middle of the room, staring first at Trixie and then at Di. Her face reflected her shock and her surprise. She had never expected to find both of her friends in the same room. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed happily. "Both of you are here! I didn't expect that! What a treat!" Honey dropped the bag on the floor and scurried over to Di, throwing her arms around her friend. "It's so good to see you, Di!" Unable to leave Trixie out, she reached down and grabbed her hand, completing the unbreakable triumvirate that they made.

"I came in to visit Trixie a few minutes ago," Di offered as an explanation from Honey's strong embrace.

It wasn't hard for Honey to realize how much Di had needed to see Trixie. She had felt the same overpowering need to see both of her friends, too. It was even sweeter than she had imagined. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to dance, and she wanted to giggle. She settled for smiling, her lovely hazel eyes brightening with the merriest of mirth. "Well, Jim came out of your room almost three hours ago, Trix. He woke me and Brian up when he came into the waiting room. He said that you had fallen back to sleep after getting your morning dosage of medicine."

Trixie glanced up at the clock, her mouth dropping, astonished by the amount of time that had slipped through her fingers. Sure enough, it was now almost past mid-morning and fast closing in on lunchtime. "Wow," she breathed out in disbelief. "I find it hard to believe that I slept for so long." She had honestly believed she had only closed her eyes for a few minutes, not for a few hours.

Honey pointed to the uneaten breakfast tray on her easy-access hospital table. "You missed breakfast, Trix." She leaned her hip against the bed, keeping one of their hands within hers. "Obviously, he told us that you had gone to sleep. We came in to see that for ourselves and then Brian and I drove home to tell our parents." For the first time Trixie noticed that Honey was wearing fresh clothes. "We stopped at your house first, Di, and picked out some clothes for you. Then we went to Crabapple Farm and did the same thing for you. Last, we stopped at my house."

Di tugged at the bottom of her hospital gown, which was only kept closed by the two ties around her waist. As the resident clotheshorse for the group, she couldn't wait to get out of the ugly gown. "Uggh," she groaned out. "Regular clothes. That's the best thing I've heard all day, Honey. I won't cry to have to see the end of this thing."

Lips pursed together, Trixie contemplated changing out of her gown. She wasn't certain if she wanted to do it. She still hadn't attempted to leave her bed and she definitely wasn't looking forward to it. The simple act of standing up seemed extremely foreboding. She wasn't ready for it. She couldn't begin to think what getting changed would feel like. Her ribs would scream in agony in spite of the fake comfort brought on by her pain medication. "Thanks, Honey. Is everyone still here?" She hoped so. She needed to see the rest of her friends and family.

"Mart must still be asleep in your room, Di. We poked our heads in earlier before we left. He looked really cute." Honey gave a small laugh. "He was stretched out on the two chairs in the most uncomfortable position I have ever seen. I have no idea how he managed to fall asleep, let alone stay asleep. He's slept the longest out of us all." She didn't add that he had also been snoring up a storm, which had caused her and Brian to have to stifle their combined laughter.

"He didn't stir when I tiptoed out of the room," Di shared, relieved, reveling in the normalcy of their conversation. Three high school girls talking and laughing. It was a wonderfully ordinary, enjoyable, and happy way to pass the time. It made her feel safe and secure and it helped to chase away the effects left by her horrific experience last night. She glanced at Trixie under her dark lashes, realizing that she would understand exactly how she was feeling. They had something very strong in common.

"Right. That's Mart for you. He's always hard to wake up in the morning." Trixie gave a wry chuckle. It seemed that the blonde-haired Beldens had the most difficult time waking up. It was not an affliction that bothered the dark-haired Beldens at all. "But you do realize he is going to be worried when he wakes up and he realizes that you're not in your bed, right, Di?"

She bit her lip nervously. It would scare Mart. "Oh, I hadn't thought of that. Maybe…"

The door opened again, with a little more force than necessary, interrupting them, causing three pairs of eyes to stare in that direction. Loud, insistent footsteps pounded into the room, only to come to a sudden and abrupt halt by the foot of the bed. Mart saw the three girls and pressed a hand over his heart. "Thank the Lord," he breathed out, his eyes focusing on Di. The urge to hug her, to kiss her, was almost overwhelming but he fought it back, realizing how inappropriate it would be, especially with his sister and Honey in the room. "I thought I had lost you." He stared at Di until he noticed the amused expressions on the other two girls in the room. Then he circled around the bed, stood on the other side, and stared down at his sister. "Good to see you again, Trix."

"Same here, Mart." She winked at him, her morning nap supplying her with more energy than she had expected. She gazed at him expectantly. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure." Mart hooked a thumb towards Di, who had the grace to blush. "I woke up and saw an empty bed. Then I hurried out of the room in search of our missing patient. I heard Dan call out to me from the waiting room but I have absolutely no idea what he was saying. Brian and Jim were with him. I think they were eating breakfast." His stomach started to rumble. He eyed the uneaten breakfast on the table. When Trixie gave him a small nod, he pulled the table towards him and started to paw through it. "I checked first in Larry's room and then I came down here," he finished before taking a bite of a pancake that was about three hours old. It didn't taste that bad so he went back for seconds.

"Larry!" Di exclaimed, her face turning an even brighter shade of red. She dropped her head into her hand. "How could I forget Larry? I can't believe that I forgot that he's here, too." Frustrated with herself, she scrubbed her hands over her face and made a note to stop in and visit him as soon as she could. "How is he doing, Mart?"

"Larry is doing great," Mart answered quickly with a reassuring smile, well-aware of her train of thought. "He was eating his breakfast and watching TV when I breezed into and out of his room. He says hi, by the way. He mentioned that the nurse already told him that he won't be able to leave until tomorrow. He's rather excited about the prospect of missing school."

Di sagged back against her chair, relieved by Mart's words. It sounded like Larry was back to his normal, exuberant self. "That's excellent. Thanks for letting me know, Mart."

Carefully perching on the edge of the bed, doing her best not to jostle Trixie, Honey announced, wonder tingeing her voice, "I find it hard to believe that it is Sunday. Tomorrow is a school day. How on earth am I going to go back to school?" She would be facing their classmates alone. Neither Trixie or Di would be cleared by the doctor to go to school tomorrow.

Di and Trixie gave each other meaningful looks, both hoping that they were excused from school. "I don't think I can go," Trixie said slowly. If the thought of getting out of bed terrified her, she couldn't begin to ponder what it would be like to have to sit through classes. Then there would be the pitying and curious looks coming her way, due to the state of her face. She wouldn't be able to stand it. If there was one thing she couldn't tolerate, it was pity.

"No need to worry, squaw." It felt so damn good to be able to tease her. Mart didn't want to dwell on the fact that he had almost been permanently denied that pleasure. "You've already been given a week's pass from school," Mart informed her with a small chuck under her chin. "No school for you until after Memorial Day."

Her eyes lit up as she gasped with delighted surprise. "Really? An entire week?" Trixie questioned, finding it hard to believe that she was going to be out of school for so long. The thought of not having to attend school made her smile broadly at the others.

Mart nodded his head. "Yup. You've got it made, Trix. You'll be resting within the safe confines of our humble abode while you recuperate."

Lines settled on Di's forehead while she attempted to translate what Mart had said. She wasn't able to. She was lost after he said the word 'resting'. "Mart," she complained softly, "you're going to have to speak like a normal person. I can't tell what you just said. Remember, I hit my head last night."

"Oh, sorry. I was trying to be funny," Mart replied, instantly contrite, and deeply sorry. He restated for Di's sake, "Trixie, you'll be able to heal at home."

It sounded like heaven until she realized that her parents would insist on getting homework from school for her to complete. Just the thought of the mound of a week's worth of work that her teachers would supply her with made her want to groan with indignation. She rolled her eyes, not looking forward to that at all.

Honey guessed the source of her unexpressed frustration. "Don't worry, Trix," she chimed in softly. "I'll be glad to help you with your homework." Trixie smiled her thanks. "And if I'm not able to help, I know that we have at least two Bob-Whites who are unemployed right now. I'm sure that Jim and Brian would be more than happy to help you out, too."

Any other day, any other time, under any other circumstances, Mart would have jumped at the chance to tease his sister about Jim. But not today. He let the opportunity slide past him without only the tiniest bit of regret. He turned towards Di. "You have at least one day of vacation from school," Mart shared with Di. "The doctor wants you to take it easy today and tomorrow. Then, if you're feeling up to it, you can go to school on Tuesday. It'll be up to you and your parents."

Di lifted her hand to her forehead, feeling her bruise, and sighing deeply. One day off would be good for her soul but how she wished that she didn't look so terrible. "I'm going to make quite a fashion statement," she mumbled dispiritedly. As much as she hated to admit it, vanity was one of her only vices. She took pride in her appearance and despised the fact that she would be on the receiving end of some extremely interested stares, come Tuesday morning.

Honey brushed back a strand of Di's dark hair, hoping to soothe her friend, and spoke consolingly, "You don't need to worry about that, Di. You'll be the envy of our school, just like always. People are going to look at you like you're the heroine in one of our school plays." Her hazel eyes slid over to Trixie. "They'll be just as impressed when you get back to school, Trix. No one is going to care about a few bruises on either of you. It won't take anytime at all for them to fade. Now, on the other hand, the stories that people tell about your courage and bravery are going to last for a very long time to come."

The door opened yet again. Everyone looked at it with expectation. "See?" Dan called back into the hallway. "I told you everyone would be in here." He strode swiftly into the room first, coming in as if he owned it, and smiling at his friends, before he sidled up next to Trixie's bed and elbowed Mart out of the way. "Make room for me," he ordered, only half-jokingly. "I haven't seen Trixie yet."

Trixie choked back a laugh when Mart sputtered in protest, always enjoying seeing her brother rendered speechless. "Hi, Dan," she greeted him softly. She hadn't seen him since she had been placed into the ambulance. As her blue eyes met his black ones, she saw the same understanding she had found in Jim's the night before. He would understand her feelings about the night, just as well as Jim would, she realized insightfully. He didn't need to say a word but she knew that he would listen to her and help her, should she need it.

The darkness of last night had hidden her face from his view. He hadn't fully realized how much she had been marked by Britten. It gnawed at him, seeing her normally bright and expressive face marred with bruises and cuts. He despised the fact that she had been a victim of such violence but he kept it hidden deep within. She didn't need that now. He caught Di out of the corner of his eye, saw the clear results on her, and felt his anger triple in its intensity. He unconsciously echoed the exact thoughts Jim had contemplated in this very room only a short while ago. He would give everything that he had in the world for five minutes with Tilney Britten. Just five minutes. He didn't say anything back, afraid that if he opened his mouth he wouldn't be able to stop the torrent of frustrated anger from spewing forth, and settled for squeezing her hand in lieu of words.

Trixie saw the emotions flaring within his obsidian eyes, correctly guessed the reason why, and squeezed his hand back, letting him know that she understood more than words could say. She didn't need to say anything to him, the same as he didn't need to respond to her. They understood each other.

Brian and Jim were the last two to enter the room, completing the circle of seven. They stood at the foot of her bed, their faces solemn and quiet, and both feeling older than their actual years. Jim had to fight back a small spear of jealousy when he saw that Trixie's hand was engulfed in Dan's larger one. He had a hard time taking his narrowed eyes off of the sight.

"We stopped in to see you, Di," Brian told her, looking over Honey's head, and unaware of the swirl of emotions that the silent man standing next to him was experiencing. "But your room was completely empty. Dan led us to Trixie's room. He had a feeling everyone had gathered in here." He arched an eyebrow at Dan. "Turns out he was right."

He was only a few inches away from her. Honey resisted the urge to stare at Brian, exhilarated and flustered at the same time by his nearness, still finding it difficult to believe that he had actually offered to take her to the prom, should her date back out on her. She barely resisted the urge to pinch herself, astounded that she was so close to having an actual dream come true. She certainly didn't want to call any attention to her feelings for him, not in front of everyone that they knew and loved, and stared down at the blanket on Trixie's bed with an intense fascination, doing her best to not act like she was aware of how close Brian really was to her.

Hands stuffed in his pockets to keep from reaching out for her, Jim didn't care if anyone noticed how his focus was solely on Trixie. He saw the brightness to her eyes, the way her smile came gently and easily while the conversation flowed around her, and the fact that her body was much more relaxed and not as stiff as it had been a few short hours ago. The dosage of pain medication had done its job, he decided after his careful perusal. She wasn't in as much pain. Now if only she would let go of Dan's hand, he thought to himself, hating the strain of jealousy yet unable to completely ignore it.

Dan realized what his friend was thinking, saw the way the green eyes had zeroed in on their hands right from the stare. For that reason alone he held onto Trixie's hand a little longer than necessary, just to see what Jim would do. He was rather impressed and a little disappointed that Jim didn't get fired up, only continued to glower towards him. Sighing inwardly, hoping for a much more interesting reaction than the one he had received, he reluctantly gave up first. He let go, patted Trixie's hand, who had been oblivious to Jim's discomfort, and stepped back from the bed. He was extremely impressed when Jim stayed where he was and didn't rush to take over his spot by Trixie.

"Does anyone know when we can go home?" Trixie asked suddenly. Having everyone together and in her room was wonderful but she desperately wanted to leave the hospital. Home was calling out to her.

Already acting like the doctor that he was studying to be, Brian spoke up immediately, "I talked to the nurse on the way over here. She said that Dr. Ferris should be in here soon. He'll check over both of you and will release you then. It shouldn't be more than an hour at the most."

Di leaned back in her chair, keeping her hand on the edge of her hospital gown in order to make sure that it stayed closed, her eyes sliding towards the bag Honey had dropped on the floor. She caught the sight of lavender in the bag, knew exactly what shirt Honey had picked out for her, and practically itched to put it on. "That sounds lovely," she mumbled, as ready to go home as Trixie was.

Mart caught her eye from across the bed and nodded at her. "I couldn't agree with you more, Di." He was careful to use her nickname, not wanting to bring up any memories from the evening before. He doubted if he would ever be able to use her full name again, not with the way she had reacted to his usage of it at the cabin, and definitely not unless she asked him to.

The door opened yet again. This time Dr. Ferris entered the room. He halted in the entrance of the room, his eyebrows lifting up when he saw the amount of people in the room. Shaking his head, he admitted aloud, "I shouldn't be shocked to see all of you here. I'll pretend that none of you are aware that only one person should be visiting a patient at a time, not…" He paused to count the number of other people in the room besides Trixie. "Six."

Everyone became very busy all of a sudden. There were whispered good-byes, quick and gentle hugs, and then a small exodus of people from her room. Trixie watched her room clear out with an inward chuckle. It was rather amusing to see Dr. Ferris kick them out with a few quietly spoken words. She smiled at each of them before they drifted through the door.

Jim lingered behind purposefully, the very last one to leave. He hadn't left his post at the foot of her bed as the rest of their friends had filed past him. "We'll be back in to take you home," he promised her. "As soon as we can."

She loved the way he smiled at her. It had the same effect on her that one of his hugs did, making her feel warmed, comforted, and protected. "I'll hold you to that, Jim," she answered back. Their gazes met and held, would have stayed like that for an undetermined amount of time, if Dr. Ferris hadn't broken the spell with a small chuckle. Jim reluctantly broke their connection and started towards the closed door, throwing one last glance at her over his shoulder.

Dr. Ferris chuckled again. The writing on the wall couldn't have been any clearer, as far as he was concerned. He wondered if he should tell her parents about it but then decided that they would have to be deaf, blind, or mute not to see the connection that existed between the two young adults. Having known Trixie from the time she had taken her very first breath, he thought that Jim Frayne couldn't have picked a better choice. "Let's get started, Trixie. The sooner I look you over, the sooner you'll be cleared to go home."

She settled back against her pillows, excited about the prospect of going home, and let the doctor start his exam. It wouldn't be too much longer before she was back within the comforts of the stretchy walls of Crabapple Farm. "I can't wait, Dr. Ferris," she mumbled to him, the words coming straight from her heart. She wanted to go home.


	44. Chapter 43

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Forty-Three

Home. It was as sweet as she thought it would be. Lying back on the comfort of her own pillows, Trixie watched the soft white curtains billowing with the light spring breeze. Sunday and all of Monday had gone past quickly. She had spent most of the time propped up in her bed, peacefully sleeping away the minutes and the hours, with the help of her pain medication. She had vague recollections of people stopping by to visit her but she hadn't been able to stay awake for all that long to actually enjoy the visits. She felt like she had turned a corner in her recovery, believing that she was starting to get past the overwhelming urge to sleep nearly around the clock. Glancing at her alarm clock, she saw that it was almost ten-thirty, pleased with herself. She had managed to stay awake for nearly an hour without falling back to sleep. "I'm improving," she mumbled quietly, her fingers playing with the afghan her grandmother had crocheted many years ago.

She watched a large blue balloon with 'Get Well Soon' written on it in rainbow letters bob back and forth with the gentle breeze from her open window. Tossing back the blankets, she gingerly put one leg on the floor, then the other, and with extreme care, rose to to her feet, proud of herself when she didn't wobble overly much. When she relatively sure she wasn't going to topple back on the bed, she staggered over to her dresser, which was filled to overflowing with baskets and vases filled flowers, colorful balloons and even a few stuffed animals. The largest arrangement came from the Lynches. It took up almost a third of her dresser top. The large, colorful arrangement of pinks, purples and yellows sat in a huge basket, with a large purple bow wrapped around it, and a handwritten card with their wishes for a speedy recovery, as well as their gratitude for her help. Trixie could remember when Di's parents brought it over. They had been expressed their extreme thanks to Trixie.

Other images of the past day and a half flittered through her mind. She recalled her meeting with Sergeant Molinson, which had happened at some point during the day yesterday. She couldn't remember exactly when he had visited her. Her mother had let him in, shortly after she had awakened from one of her many naps. He had quickly and surreptitiously recorded her statement of the events on Saturday night, from the time she had left the Country Club to the final point when he had arrived at the clearing, waiting for his chance to get a shot off at Tilney Britten, and not allowing her to gloss over her part in it in spite of her attempt to do just that. He had wanted the truth. She had been forced to comply, even though she never wanted to relive the events again. He had broken a habit of his. He hadn't questioned her overly much. Instead, he had simply let her talk, needing to know the events for legal purposes. She wasn't aware that her brothers had stood outside of her door, listening to her every word, or that he had had made a second copy of the tape or that he had given it to her parents, somehow aware that she had no intentions of sharing it fully with her family and friends, and completely breaking protocol. Sergeant Molinson didn't regret his decision, believing that Trixie had more than earned it, and that her family deserved to know all that had happened.

Then there had been the phone call her mother had mentioned she needed to make to her prom date, sometime after she had attempted to eat dinner last night. Helen had placed the cordless phone in her daughter's hand, ignoring her weak protests, and had then left the room, giving Trixie the privacy she needed to make the call. It hadn't been easy. It certainly hadn't been fun. She hadn't talked to him long, only long enough to break their date, to explain why, and to express her apologies for doing so. Alex hadn't sounded too surprised or disappointed, almost as if he had been expecting the call. He had probably realized it was going to happen, once the story of her exploits Saturday night had been publicized, first in _The Sleepyside Sun _and then throughout the halls of Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School. At least it was over. It wasn't like she had been looking forward to attending the prom but she hadn't liked canceling out on her date only days before it. Her fingers trailed along the edge of her dresser while a slight flush stole across her face.

Catching her reflection in her mirror, she brought her eyes up to it, grimacing when she saw the way that she looked. Never overly vain in the past, she couldn't help but be saddened and disappointed by the reflection that met her gaze. Her one cheek was puffy, swollen and bruised. The bruise had moved beyond the deep purple stage and was starting to turn to a lovely shade of green. It was balanced out on the other side by the scratches that were rough, scabbing over, and beginning to heal. At least she had something else to focus on besides her freckles, she thought cynically. One side of her mouth lifted up before she turned her back on her image. It didn't matter, couldn't matter, she thought to herself, giving a large red balloon with a prancing pony on it an extra strong nudge before walking slowly over towards her window. She couldn't do anything about her appearance anyway, except suffer through it, and wait for her body to heal.

Holding back the side of her curtain, she glanced outside, smiling slightly at the beautiful view of spring spread out before her like a tantalizing blanket. A gust of wind blew through the trees, rattling the leaves and sending the flowers into a merry dance. The sky was an absolutely brilliant blue with only a few puffy clouds that dared to mar its magnificent scenery. The air itself was finally warming up as if spring had finally decided to arrive to Sleepyside. She watched Reddy frolic around in the yard, chasing a few bumbling bumble bees, before settling down and resting his head underneath a canopy of shade. Pressing her head against the window, she wished that she could be out there with him, enjoying the beautiful morning, instead of cooped up inside. But even the small amount of time she had spent out of the bed was starting to catch up to her, proving to her that while she was certainly feeling much better, she was long from recovered. Turning back to her bed, she studied it, knowing that she would have to climb back into soon before her knees gave out on her. Sighing in defeat, she started the trek back, carefully winding her way around the extra twin bed in her room.

Then she caught sight of the large stack of books and notebooks placed neatly on her desk, close to her bed, and paused in her steps. Honey had helpfully dropped them off yesterday on her way home from school. One edge of her lips curled up in disdain as she stared at them, unable to believe that she had so much schoolwork to complete during her week off from school. Heaving a deep sigh, she wished that the teachers had saved a little bit of pity for her but they most certainly hadn't. A small ache started behind her eyes just from thinking about the amount of work that she needed to complete. She wasn't anticipating it.

A light knock on her door, then a familiar blonde head appeared. "Hi, Trixie!" Mart called out, pushing the door open and entering the room. He grinned at her, delighted to see that she was up and out of her bed. It was the first time he had seen her moving about since she had returned home, remembering with a twinkle to his eye how she had absolutely refused to stay in the guest room downstairs and had insisted on climbing the stairs to her own room.

"You must have drawn the short straw today," Trixie remarked sardonically to him before she climbed back into her bed, moving slowly and deliberately so as not to aggravate her ribs. She pulled the light cover back over herself and settled back down, beginning to see her bedroom more as a trap than a source of comfort. She was dying to simply get around and move, even if it was only a trip down the stairs, but she couldn't. Her body wasn't up to it yet.

"If you mean it is my turn to stay home with you and make sure you are all right, then yes, I did." Mart cut back on the need to use his larger vocabulary, realizing Trixie wouldn't appreciate it, especially when he caught the frustration on her face.

She was also starting to resent having to have someone watching over her, like she was a baby. She wanted her freedom. She wanted her independence. Mostly, she wanted complete control of her body again. She despised the weakness, the need for sleep she couldn't quite overcome, as well as the necessity of her pain medication. "How did you get to be the lucky one?" Trixie wondered, needing to focus on something else besides her fading good mood.

Mart pulled out the chair from her desk and sat down, placing the glass of water and the pill bottle on top of her desk. He began, "Dad is working, of course. He won't be home until his normal time. You may not remember this but Brian had to go into the City today to meet with his advisor for his summer internship. He got a phone call about that last week."

"I do remember that Brian had a meeting today," Trixie interrupted. "It had something to do with his advisor having to go on an early maternity leave. He stopped by this morning before he left and told me about it. He looked a little nervous, almost as if he was expecting to get some bad news."

"Yes. I thought so, too." Mart leaned back in his chair, remembering the odd look that had passed over their brother's face before he had left. "Since we currently only have two working cars in our family, he had to borrow our mother's van. He left early this morning. By himself, I might add." He didn't add that Brian had invited Jim to join him on the drive but their friend had refused the invitation. Mart had to bite back a laugh, staring at Trixie with a glee that was hard to conceal, knowing that she was the reason why Jim hadn't gone along for the ride with Brian. He noted the time on the clock, wondering when their redheaded neighbor would grace them with a visit. It wouldn't be too much longer, he thought. Jim had stopped by on Sunday evening and had made two visits yesterday, all when Trixie was sleeping. If he visited soon, he may actually be able to catch Trixie awake. Clearing away the thoughts, he continued, "Since Moms is carless for the day, she had to rely on one of her friends to bring her to their Garden Club's luncheon. She was picked up earlier than she would have liked since Mrs. Johns had volunteered to decorate for the luncheon. She'll be back later in the afternoon. So, unless our parents wanted to pull Bobby from school, that left me as the only possible person who could stay home with you."

Trixie accepted the water and the two pills that Mart handed her. As much as she hated relying on the medication, she couldn't argue with the effects. They were a modern miracle and helped her greatly with the pain. "Thanks, Mart. I really appreciate it. You must have had to rearrange your work schedule."

Mart let her thanks roll off of him. It didn't bother him. He was glad to do it, grateful to have a sister to watch over. "You should really thank Dan. He's doing our lawn care jobs today all by himself. I'm sure I'll hear about it tomorrow."

She put the empty glass on her nightstand, recalling what he had said about the lack of cars in their family. Brian hadn't been able to completely fix his jalopy, was seriously considering getting rid of it, but she hadn't heard anything about Mart's car. As far as she knew, it was still in the impound lot at the police station, waiting to be searched for evidence. "What about your car, Mart? I doubt that the police need it any longer, considering the fact that the culprit has been taken care of. When will you get it back?"

"Should be tomorrow afternoon." He colored slightly, inhaled a breath, and reluctantly shared with her, "Mr. Lynch had the car towed over to the auto repair shop and set an appointment to have new tires placed on it. It's scheduled to be done tomorrow morning." He gave a low laugh and shook his head. "He wouldn't take no for an answer and absolutely refused to let me pay for it. He said that it was the least he could do for all of the assistance I gave Di."

She wasn't shocked, either by the offer or by the embarrassment Mart felt over it, and stared at the large basket of flowers on her dresser. The Lynches, who were extremely kindhearted and generous, were clearly making their gratitude known to them. She tapped him on the forearm. "Don't let it bother you, Mart. Mr. Lynch is only trying to find a way to thank you for helping Di."

Mart arched an eyebrow at the impressive floral display sitting on her dresser, well aware of who had sent it to her. "I know that, Trix. That's why I wasn't successful in refusing his offer," he shared with a tiny smile. "It was useless to even pursue one. Mr. Lynch had his mind made up and wouldn't take no for an answer."

Her laugh was intentionally short but it didn't hurt as much as it had a few days ago. "Good for you. Good for Mr. Lynch. I know that you can't wait to get your car back." Her smile touched her eyes. "Did Di go back to school today?"

"Yeah. She didn't want to stay home another day." Mart leaned back in the chair, making it balance on its back legs, while a vision of the lovely dark-haired lady floated through his mind. He had visited her yesterday evening and had been pleased when she had shared with him her decision to return to school. "Her parents would have let her stay home another day but she didn't want to. She wants to get back into the normal swing of things as soon as she could."

"And good for her." Trixie felt the irony of the situation slap her in the face. It wasn't that long ago when she was jealous of the free time that Mart had, right after he had returned home from college. She had a seemingly endless supply of it now, right at her fingertips, and she would give just about anything to be in her normal schedule, even if it meant attending her high school classes. "What about the prom? I had to cancel my date yesterday," she shared, in case he hadn't been aware of it. Mart nodded his head, letting her know that he knew. "Are you and Di still going together?"

"She told me she wouldn't miss her senior prom for the world." It had been a small worry of his but he had underestimated one Diana Lynch. When he had brought it up yesterday, she had drawn herself up to her full five feet, seven inches of height, her lovely violet eyes flashing and twin flags of a rosy pink in her cheeks, and had emphatically declared that there was simply no way she was going to stay home on Saturday night. She was going and he was going with her. "Yeah," he repeated, his face going soft at the memory. "We're still going. What about Honey?"

"I don't know." Eyes downcast, Trixie picked at the light yellow pillow case, and felt absolutely horrible, believing that Honey would have lost her date for the prom. "I have a strong suspicion that her date is going to cancel on her, once he learns that I had to cancel out on Alex. Alex and Michael are good friends. You remember how things go in high school, right?"

He gave a curt nod, feeling sympathy for Honey. Di had already voiced the same suspicions to him. She didn't deserve to be ditched only four days before the prom. "We'll see what happens, Trix." Wanting to distract her, he picked up a folder and opened it up, grimacing when he saw the amount of assignments she needed to complete in her chemistry class. Three chapters of reading, a few worksheets, and a whole slew of short answers that were begging to be answered. "Oh, goodness," he muttered under his breath, hiding the swear word he really wanted to use.

"The teachers were really nice to me, weren't they?" she asked sarcastically. "I actually haven't had the curiosity to read any of my assignments. Just the sight of all of those books sitting there, patiently waiting for me, has been enough to make me want to fall back to sleep." She had absolutely no desire to start her schoolwork.

Mart couldn't hide his scowl. She did have a lot of schoolwork to complete. It reminded him of the schoolwork she had had to finish during their time in Arizona. Believing in her, he knew she would be able to get it done. "Don't worry, Trix. You know we'll all help you with it, if you should need it," he assured her quickly.

"I shouldn't have expected anything less than a small mountain of work," she answered back, smiling her thanks at his offer to help. "As you know, graduation is only four weeks away. Most of the assignments from this week will make up a good portion of my grade, plus the final exams in a few weeks." She tried to look on the bright side of things. "At least I have a full week left to complete them, with all of the time in world, too." Staring around her room, she could actually swear that she was starting to feel the four walls close in. It would keep her busy, she had that much to be grateful for, once she dredged up the energy to get started on it.

"Are you going to start your homework today?" he wondered aloud.

She shook her head vehemently. "No!" she exclaimed with a loud chuckle. "This is the longest stretch I've been able to stay awake. I'm going for a record, I hope you know. Almost an hour and a half right now." Hiding a groan at the twinge in her side, she carefully reached for a slim book she had to read for her Humanities class and held it up, a mocking glint to her eyes. "I have a feeling that reading _The Epic of Gilgamesh_ will put an end to that extremely quickly. I would be asleep before I hit page three."

His answering laugh was low, swift and full of mirth. It was good to have her joking again. "Tomorrow, then."

"It's the best day to do any homework," she replied with a cheeky grin.

He couldn't believe how he relieved he felt to hear Trixie laughing. The spark that twinkled in her blue eyes was back, delighting him and making him laugh with her. He hadn't realized how much he had missed it until just now. Then he heard a car door open and close, followed quickly by another one. Jumping out of his chair he hurried over to her window, surprised to see the two people coming up the walkway, and looked down at his watch to check the time. "Looks like you have some unexpected visitors, Trix," he called out over his shoulder.

Trixie tilted her head to the side, curious and excited. Visitors would be wonderful. "Who is it, Mart?" she inquired, wondering if her body was up for another sojourn to the window.

"Stay in bed, Trix," he ordered, guessing her intentions. "You'll find out in a minute." The visitors didn't bother knocking but came right in the front door. He heard them walk up the stairs, their voices preceding them into the room. He saw a large smile wreath Trixie's face, letting him know that she had already figured out who was coming up the stairs.

Honey and Di paused in the doorway, excited to see that Trixie was awake. "Hi, Trix!" Honey sang out, coming into the room ahead of Di. She carried a textbook and a large stack of papers and placed them on top of her desk, being careful to make sure that the textbooks didn't topple over with the newest additions.

"More work?" The smile faded from her face. Trixie couldn't take her eyes off it, releasing a small groan when she saw that it was her trigonometry book. She hadn't realized that her math homework was missing. If it was up to her, she wouldn't have had to complete it.

"Mr. Jenkins wasn't in school yesterday," Di put in apologetically. "He put together your work this morning and gave it to Mr. Stratton. He brought it over to us in homeroom. He told us that he wanted you to have as much time as possible to complete your work. He did tell us to let you know that your trig homework could be turned in next Wednesday since you were getting it a day late." She motioned to Honey. "Then Mr. Stratton gave the two of us special permission to bring it over to you today, during our home-ec class, in case you would like get started on it now." She almost laughed at the pained look that Trixie sent her.

"Right." The sarcasm was thick, the tone was dry, and there was absolutely no humor on her face. Trigonometry. Her least favorite subject of the semester. There was no way in hell she was going to work on it before she actually had to do it. "Don't worry, Di. I'll get right on it."

Well-versed in the feelings Trixie had towards math, Honey released a series of delighted chuckles and then sat down in the chair that Mart had recently vacated. "We don't have to be back at school until after our lunch period. Isn't that wonderful? Mr. Stratton told us it was okay to stay and visit you for a bit." She glanced down at her elegant gold watch. "We can stay for at least half an hour before we have to head back to school. What a treat."

Di smiled shyly over at Mart, who hadn't taken his eyes off of her yet, and barely resisted the urge to feel the bruise on her forehead. It seemed to be the first place most people looked at when they saw her. She rather wished that she had a dime for every single time someone stared at it. She would probably have made enough to pay for her first semester of college by now. Mart was the first person who had looked at her today, not at her forehead. "We have to make something special for dessert for our home-ec teacher," she explained, searching for something to say before she did something completely foolish and threw herself into Mart's arms, which wouldn't be a bad thing to do, if they were alone. "You know, since we're missing her class today. Do you have any ideas, Mart?"

"Let's go get started on lunch. I'll share some of my favorite desserts with you then," Mart suggested. Coming around the bed, he rested a hand on the small of her back and guided her towards the bedroom door. "We'll go see what Moms left us for lunch and get it ready. It won't take too long," he called back to Trixie and Honey, closing the door quietly behind them.

Trixie and Honey shared amused looks before dissolving into a small fit of giggles. "That was smooth," Trixie noted, impressed by how her brother had maneuvered Di out of the room so that he could have her all to himself.

Tears that were a mixture of mirth and sadness pricked her hazel eyes. A few fell before she could stop them. Honey wiped them away with the back of her hand before exclaiming softly, "Oh, Trixie! You can't begin to imagine how good it is to hear you laughing!" The most tender-hearted of the group, she absolutely despised watching any of their friends in pain.

"It doesn't hurt quite as much, either," she shared back. "I even managed to get out of my bed for a few minutes. Who knows? Maybe tomorrow I'll even be able to make it downstairs." The walk up the stairs two days earlier hadn't been a pleasant experience. She had found out the hard way that stairs and bruised/broken ribs were not compatible at all. She hadn't wanted to leave her bedroom since then, except to make the short trip to the upstairs bathroom and back. The memory of the agony still had the power to make her grit her teeth. She did not want to relive it anytime soon.

"I'm proud of you, Trix." Honey reached over and brushed back a curl from Trixie's forehead, smiling softly at her very best friend in the world. "You're handling this well."

"No, not really. I'm holding back the complaints, Honey. I doubt I'll be as good at it after a few more days of staying in bed." Never liking being the benefit of praise, Trixie cleared her throat and valiantly searched for a way to get the conversation off of herself and onto something else. She hesitated but then said, "Moms made me call Alex last night."

And he had immediately called Michael, Honey knew that without the smallest amount of disappointment. Michael had been waiting for her outside of her homeroom that morning, where he had swiftly and apologetically broken their date for the prom. It seemed that he and Alex were going to go camping instead. He had given her his ticket and had invited her to share it with someone else, with no hard feelings should she be able to find someone at such a late date. "I already know, Trixie," Honey replied matter-of-factly.

If she knew, then that meant…Trixie blew out a small breath and felt about two inches tall. "I'm sorry, Honey," she apologized, feeling responsible for Honey's broken date.

"Don't be." Honey wasn't sorry in the least. She inhaled deeply and then leaned forward, preparing to share a confidence. She hadn't told anyone yet about Brian's offer to take her in the event that her date should back out on her. "I'm not sorry at all, Trixie. In fact, I couldn't be happier. You see, I think I may have an even better offer on the table."

Trixie's brow furrowed together. She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. She had missed something during her time in her bed. "Honey Wheeler! You're holding out on me. Who is this 'better offer' that you're talking about?" She waited expectantly with a pretty good idea of who wanted to be Honey's substitute.

She couldn't prevent the wide smile from spreading across her lips, nearly splitting her face in half. "I don't want to jump the gun, since I haven't been able to talk to him since Michael dumped me this morning, but I had a talk with your brother, the other night at the hospital. We spent the night together in the waiting room. We talked a lot. Somehow the subject of the prom came up. I told him that I doubted if you would be able to go to the prom. Then I shared with him that if you had to cancel on your date, my date would end up canceling on me." Taking a deep breath, the rest of her words came out on a rush, "Brian mentioned to me that if I was ditched, he would be more than happy to take my date's place."

"Really?" She drew out the word, making the two-word syllables sound more like six. "Well, Honey, that's just wonderful."

Honey shrugged a shoulder but couldn't disguise the excitement she was experiencing. "I need to talk with Brian first, to find out if he is still interested in going with me."

"Brian wouldn't have committed himself if he hadn't meant it," his sister interrupted loyally. Her brother never said anything that he didn't mean. If he had offered to take Honey, then he was going to the prom with Honey. Clapping her hands together, Trixie proclaimed, "How perfectly perfect! I would say that you have a definite date, Miss Wheeler."

"It's more of a pity date than anything else but I'm okay with that. I am not going to complain in the least." The thought that she was attending her high school prom with Brian Belden because her first date had backed out on her was worth the small stab to her pride. She could deal with it, if it meant that she was actually able to attend the dance with her first choice.

Trixie bit her lip. "Do you have a dress? I seem to remember that we were supposed to go shopping on Sunday." She had spent all of Sunday in bed, definitely not in the shape to do any shopping in the least.

Honey nodded her head. Driven by the excitement of the possibility that she could be going with Brian, she had slipped away on Sunday afternoon and had found the perfect dress for the evening. It was long, ivory, and moved with a fluid grace around her when she put it on. She couldn't wait for Brian to see her in it. She hoped he would see her as a woman instead of as the sister of his best friend. "I've already taken care of it. Don't worry about that, Trix."

Honey and Brian. Mart and Di. Two potential Bob-White couples. Trixie shook her head. A small part of her was a little let down that she wouldn't be going to the prom now. It was promising to be a much more enjoyable evening than what she had been expecting. But she would be home, most likely with her parents and Bobby to keep her company. She bit back a small sigh of disappointment, feeling like she was getting the short end of the deal. "I'm glad for you, Honey. I really am," she said sincerely, keeping her own feelings to herself.

"I still have to talk to your brother. When will he get back from the City?" Honey averted her eyes, her fingers tracing the spiral of one of the many notebooks residing on her desk, feeling a small strain of embarrassment.

Trixie saw the time on the clock. "He told me his agenda this morning before he left. If all went on time, he should be meeting with his advisor right now. He wasn't sure how long it would last but he was hoping to be back on the road and out of the City well before rush hour. I'm guessing by five at the absolute latest."

Honey could deal with that. Her eyes perked up when she heard a call that lunch was ready from downstairs. "Looks like I'm being paged, Trix," she said, standing up reluctantly, and starting towards the door. Her and Di didn't have that much time left before they would have to head back to school."I'll bring something up to you for lunch."

"Send it up with Mart. You have to be getting back to school. See you later, Honey. Thanks for the trig homework. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate it." Trixie rolled her eyes, showing how she really felt about getting her work.

Honey laughed. "It's a shame we couldn't stay any longer. We'll see you soon." She slipped out the door with a small wave.

Trixie stared at the open door, wishing that she could be following Honey downstairs. It had been an unexpected gift to see her friends, if only for a few minutes. "At least today is much more interesting than yesterday was," she mumbled lowly. It could only get better. Covering her stomach, she felt a small rumble in her stomach. It was the first time she had felt hungry in days. Things were definitely starting to look up. Leaning back against the small mound of pillows on her bed, she started to plan the rest of her week out. As unfortunate as it was, she would have to make time to start her homework.


	45. Chapter 44

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Forty-Four

Trixie heard her friends call farewell up to her before they left the house, most likely in a full-out frenzy, and calculated the time on the clock, aware of how long it would take for them to drive the long stretch of country road and return to school. If Honey and Di left now, they would be able to make it back to school in time for their next class only by the skin of their teeth. She chuckled when she heard the sound of the front door slamming shut and running feet pounding down the porch steps. Then two car doors opened and closed loudly, making her grin even wider. smirk to herself, she walked down the hall, towards the bathroom, her steps slow but sure and moving along more towards her normal rate of speed. It didn't take her nearly as long to get reach her destination as it had even a day before. She couldn't argue with her progress.

A few minutes later she was on her way back to her room, contemplating whether she should lay down for yet another nap or start in on her homework. The thought of yet another nap wasn't appealing. Too much energy was starting to burn through her. Beginning her schoolwork wasn't appealing in the least but she thought it could be a good idea to at least find out what her assignments were. Heaving a sigh that was both tragic and a bit overdrawn, Trixie picked up the newest assignment and started to page through it, thoroughly disgusted with the amount of problems Mr. Jenkins had happily supplied her with during her unexpected vacation from school. "Oh, woe," she groaned as she stood next to her bed, the numbers and words dancing merrily in front of her slightly shocked eyes, mocking her with their very presence. "Thank you, Mr. Jenkins. What a joy." She didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or cry at the amount of problems and settled for a frown instead.

Lost in thought, Trixie didn't glance up when her bedroom door pushed open. Running a hand through her tangled curls, she glared at her paper, staring at it as if she would like to annihilate it. "Hey, Mart," she greeted her visitor. "I'll bet you anything that Mr. Jenkins was laughing his head off when he put together my homework for the week. He's probably trying to get back at me for the all the times he caught me daydreaming in class," she grumbled mournfully. "He has succeeded with a vengeance, in case you're interested."

"I'll be glad to help you with that," an amused voice that certainly did not belong to her brother responded from the open doorway.

Trixie's head shot up, surprise written clearly across her expressive face, while she took in the man filling her doorway. Tall, handsome, tanned, and definitely not a Belden. Her smile was wide and warm while her blue eyes twinkled with unmistakable pleasure at the unexpected sight. "Jim!" she exclaimed, her greeting as soft as a whisper. The paper slid from her suddenly boneless fingers, to land on her blankets, forgotten, while she felt that odd tingle that was becoming more and more familiar start to travel its way up her spine. Her hand came up to unconsciously smooth her curls, tucking the one that she had never been able to truly tame behind her ear.

"It looks like you have me for a while," he began, shifting a large cardboard box to his hip and leaning against the doorframe, one ankle crossed casually over the other. At her questioning look, he offered an explanation, "There was a slight problem with the Bob-White station wagon when I pulled up. Honey and Di were a little concerned because it wouldn't start. They weren't sure if they were going to be able to make it back to school at all. Mart had his head under the hood. He was trying to figure out what was wrong with the car."

She thought she had heard an odd sound during her walk to the bathroom but hadn't been able to put her finger on it. Tapping her finger against her knee, she let the news sink in. "That's not good. Mart's never excelled at working on cars. Honey and Di would have had just as much luck if they had decided to fix it themselves." Frowning, she walked over to the window, pulled back the white curtain and peeked out. The Bob-White station wagon sat in the driveway, looking as sad and forlorn as a car that would not start could, but there wasn't a sight of her friends or her brother; only Reddy slumbering under the shade of the tree. "Where are they? Did Honey and Di go back to school?" she questioned over her shoulder, perplexed.

"Mart took my car." The offer had been made the second he had understood what had happened. He hadn't wanted to waste a second of uninterrupted time with Trixie. "I gave my keys to Mart. He's driving them in as long as I promised I would stay with you." It hadn't been a hard promise to make or for him to keep. He had missed talking to Trixie over the past two days. Jim kept an easy smile on his face even though his sharp eyes missed nothing. Relieved to see that Trixie was awake, moving, and out of her bed, he couldn't help but feel a renewed spurt of anger at the proof of her nightmare on her face. He had come to grips with the sight that met him every time he looked in his own mirror, hardly even noticing the bruises on his own face or the bandage on his arm, but he hated, absolutely despised, the marks on her face. Not only did it bring back his own fury, it also brought back the feelings of helplessness and guilt that he doubted he would ever be able to overcome for not successfully stopping Britten on his own before that bastard hurt Trixie.

She didn't feel like complaining about needing a babysitter now, quietly thanking the extremely kind hands of fate for sending her Jim instead. "Di and Honey brought me some more schoolwork," she shared, taking extreme care to turn her body around, and skirted around the guest bed in her room. Her room was small. It took her longer than it should have to reach her own bed. "That's why they were here. Mr. Stratton gave them permission to bring it to me."

He didn't miss the cautious way she held her body, completely aware of the effort it took for her to simply walk. Biting back a sigh, he told himself that it wouldn't be too much longer before her body was mended and she was back to her old level of activity. Needing a distraction badly, Jim pointed to the newest addition to her large stack. "That's what they told me before they rushed into my car. Trigonometry, right?"

"My favorite," she answered sarcastically, lifting her eyebrows. Her feelings for anything mathematically inclined were extremely well known, especially by Jim.

Didn't he know it, he thought, one lip curling up while he recalled many tutoring sessions with her. He placed the box he was carrying onto her bed and pulled out a paper plate, handing it to her with a flourish. "Mart yelled back at me while he was driving away that you hadn't had any lunch yet and that I should fix you a plate. That's why it took me longer than it should have to get up here." After Trixie accepted it, he searched through the box until he found a can of strawberry pop.

She grinned with delight when he gave it to her and popped the top. The first sip tasted heavenly, even more so because she hadn't been expecting the treat. There hadn't been any strawberry pop in the house the night before. Someone in her family must have made a special run to Mr. Lytell's store, just for her. "Have you had lunch yet?" Trixie asked, carefully perching on the edge of her bed. Eyeing the pillows which were starting to look extremely inviting, she vowed not to lie back down. She would fall back to sleep if she did. She wanted to stay upright for her visit with Jim, to enjoy it as much as she possibly could.

Jim fished out another paper plate from the box and took a seat across from her in her desk chair. "Mart told me to help myself," he explained with a disarming grin. "I haven't had lunch either."

The chicken salad sandwich was delicious. While they ate in companionable silence, it finally hit her that this was the first time she had seen Jim, alone, since she had woken up in the hospital. She had been told by her family that he had stopped by to visit but she had missed out on each of them, thanks to the sleepiness brought on by her injury and her pain medication that she hadn't been able to control. Her face took on a faraway look as she remembered that morning, two days earlier, and how special it had felt to wake up to Jim. With eyes half-closed, she recalled how he had looked at her, with that amazing, intense glint to his eyes; making her feel special more than any words could ever have said. The words, _The absolute best taste,_ came back to her again, as well as that same, soft feeling that made her tingly all over.

"Trixie?" Jim broke through her reverie, having asked her the same question twice with no response from her. He nudged her knee, instantly alert. "Are you okay?"

Abruptly taken out of her daydream, Trixie brought a hand to her mouth to cover a nervous giggle. "Sorry, Jim," she apologized, rolling a shoulder, and doing her best to ignore the slight blush that was starting to steal across her face. "I wasn't paying attention. Blame it on my medication. Now you know how my teachers sometimes feel."

"It didn't bother me." Truly, it did not. But he watched her closely, with the intensity an eagle would give its potential prey, noting each nuance of her expression and the lines of her body, searching for any signs of pain as the reason behind her sudden inattention. Unable to find any signs, he inquired softly, "Are you hurting anywhere?"

"No. I feel pretty good right now." Trixie shook her head once, nervously balled up her napkin, put it on her empty plate and quickly changed the subject before she did something stupid and blurt out what she was actually thinking. "It was a wonderful surprise to see Honey and Di this morning. It's Di's first day back to school, you know."

"She looked happy," Jim mentioned as he munched on a potato chip. He leaned back in the chair, convinced that she wasn't experiencing any undue amount of pain, and impressed with how smoothly she had changed the subject from his concerns about her health. "Content, even. I think she's surviving her first day back as well as could be expected."

"Yes. She seemed to be back to her normal self. I'm certain that she probably loved the opportunity to get out of school, even if it was only for an hour," Trixie mentioned knowingly. "Any high school student would. I know I wouldn't have minded a special pass to leave school grounds, especially in the middle of the day. They were given permission by our principal to bring me more work since Mr. Jenkins wasn't at school yesterday," she added in an aside, in case he wasn't aware of it.

Jim tapped the large pile of books and tried to encourage her. "This is it, Trix. This right here is the tail end of your semester work for your classes. After you finish all of this, you won't have much else to do until finals." He had a vague recollection of the load of work his teachers had assigned about a month before school ended, in an attempt to combat students from experiencing a severe case of senioritus. It hadn't worked for his class. He had doubts it would work for hers, either.

Trixie couldn't tear her gaze away from the books, overwhelmed by the amount. "The teachers at my school are so very nice," she responded sardonically, lifting one eyebrow high. "They went to a lot of trouble to keep me busy while I'm home."

He couldn't help but laugh. She looked so pitiful. "Don't worry, Trix. It won't be that hard. You can do it," he reassured her, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "You know you have more than enough helpers around here to assist you if you need it."

She appreciated the 'if' and told him so with another small smile. Then she handed him her empty plate and soda can. Her arm bumped the cardboard box, which she had forgotten about. Curious, she arched her neck and tried to peer inside it, her face crinkled up while she attempted to figure out what else could be in there. "What else is in the box?"

He was impressed it had taken her so long to even ask about the box. "I had a feeling that you would have more than enough schoolwork to keep you busy while you're home." Putting their paper plates aside, he reached into the box and came up with his laptop computer, appreciating her small gasp of surprise. "I figured this would come in handy."

Trixie's whole face lit up with happy astonishment. "Thank you, Jim," she breathed out quietly, touched by the gesture. While the laptop would certainly come in handy, it was the fact that he had thought to help her out that she appreciated the most. He always seemed to be thinking of others, in some way, shape or form. She wouldn't admit it to anyone else but she loved being on the receiving end. She hugged that tiny, sweet secret to herself, with only a special sparkle coming into her eyes to give it away.

He flashed a lazy grin at her and laid the laptop on the remaining space on her desk. Taking off the stack of books and notebooks, he laid them in neat piles on the floor and missed the telling look she sent him. "Here's my printer, too," he said, taking the item out and making room for it, as well as for a stack of pristine white paper. Pulling the desk away from the wall, he reached behind and started plugging in the wires. His voice came back a bit muffled but Trixie didn't notice, a little too intent on watching the view. "That way you can print out anything that you need. I also set up the wireless router downstairs before I came up here, on your family's computer. Your dad said it would be all right when I asked him last night. You'll be able to get internet access up here."

She couldn't stop staring at his back and, more truthfully, even thought it was hard to confess to herself, his backside, which had been put on immediate display while he set up the laptop and the printer. Hiding a soulful sigh behind a well-timed cough, she quickly averted her head when he sat back on his haunches. "That's really nice of you, Jim," she mumbled softly, feeling it was an inadequate response but unable to come up with anything more poetic to say.

"No problem, Trix. Don't worry about it," Jim answered, throwing her a glance at her and wondering to himself why her face was suddenly bright red. "I'm not using it right now. I don't plan on using it again until the fall semester starts up. You can keep it as long as you need it, Trixie."

Slightly stunned, she couldn't believe he was willing to part with his computer for such a long length of time, all for her. Generosity towards her always made her feel nervous and shy and was never easy for her to accept. Her pride always got in the way but, staring into his green eyes, she realized that he wouldn't accept a refusal. Searching for a way out to offer him, in case he should want to reconsider his offer, she pondered, "But what about your email? Won't you want to check it?"

He had anticipated her response, well aware of her character traits. "You don't need to worry about that," he spoke reassuringly. "I don't get that many interesting emails now anyway, especially with all of us back home. The Bob-Whites were always the ones responsible for keeping my inbox full. But feel free to check it. You can let me know if anything comes in," he invited her with an unconcerned wave of his hand.

He was giving her, the girl with an almost unquenchable amount of curiosity, permission to check his personal emails? Total carte blanche over his computer? Trixie couldn't believe it, slanting a glance towards the laptop and suddenly became very eager to see what was on his computer. It could prove to be extremely interesting and enlightening and made her actual start to look forward to her recovery time at home. "You really don't mind, Jim?" she asked one last time, now hoping that he would say no.

"No. I don't mind at all," Jim repeated. He waited until she was looking at him in the face. Then, with green eyes meeting blue, he spoke the truth aloud, starting to lay the foundation for what he wanted to tell her on her graduation day, "I trust you, Trixie."

The words carried a wealth of meaning behind them, made her draw in a sudden, sharp breath. The air around them felt purer and cleaner while she saw the veracity of the simple statement shining forth from his eyes, piercing her with their intensity. "I trust you, too," came out before she had time to think what she wanted to say.

Her response meant more to him than any other outpouring of gratitude and appreciation ever could have. They were caught like that, him crouching on the floor, her elevated on the bed, with eyes locked together, for an undistinguishable amount of time. He finally broke the connection, cleared his throat, and wishing that her graduation wasn't twenty-nine days away. He had a feeling they were going to be the longest days of his life. "The laptop and the printer are set up for you to use. 'Jupiter' is my password. You'll need to know that to log in." He had changed his password right before coming down to her visit her, uncertain how she would have felt if she had known _Shamus_ had been his password for as long as he had owned his laptop.

She ran her hand over the sleek obsidian top of the laptop, her fingers itching to get inside and turn the computer on. Her eagerness had absolutely nothing to do with her schoolwork. She wanted to explore his computer, to see what he kept on it, and had to tamp down on the need to start her search now. "Thanks again, Jim. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate it. It's going to make my schoolwork that much easier to complete."

Not wanting praise, he shrugged it off. It was his turn to quickly change the subject. "I've looked in on you over the past two days. This is the first time that I've seen you up and around."

"It helps to have an almost-doctor in the family. I seem to remember Brian mumbling something at me before he left this morning that I should start to get more mobile. He said that I shouldn't push myself too much but that a little activity would be good for me," Trixie said with a giggle, lightly swinging her legs. "At least that's what I think I heard. My mind was still a little fuzzy from my countless hours of sleeping." She pointed in the direction of the stairs. "I don't think I'm ready to tackle the stairs yet, though. I can still remember how painful it was to come up them when I came home from the hospital. I can't begin to imagine what it would be like to go down them."

Busily rearranging her desk, Jim made sure that there was room for the computer, the printer, and her stack of books. When everything was neatly stacked and lined up to his taste, he turned and stared at the large amount of flowers and balloons their friends and family had sent her. It was a remarkable amount and clearly showed how many people cared for her."I must say that it looks like a flower shop in here, Trixie."

"Tell me about it. It smells like one, too." Sniffing the perfumed air, Trixie gingerly pushed herself off the bed, walked over to the dresser, and ran an absent finger over green leaves, sending them on a small dance through the air. "I was shocked when I woke up on Monday morning. I couldn't believe how many flowers and other things were waiting for me here." She picked up an overly stuffed teddy bear from her Uncle Andrew and nuzzled it to her cheek.

"What else would you expect? You are one of our favorite people, you know." His words were casual and spoken in a nonchalant tone but carried a forceful meaning behind them. He followed her over, stopped right behind her, and reached out, flicking the balloon with a picture of the prancing pink pony with multi-colored balloons painted onto its side, and arched an eyebrow. "Let me guess. This has to be from Regan, right?"

Delighted and embarrassed by his nearness as well as his words, thinking that the next flush stealing across her face probably set off her bruise to sarcastic perfection, she gave a quick nod. "He told my mother that it was the only horse balloon he could find. It's a My Little Pony balloon, in case you didn't know," she informed him, her lips twitching.

"I'll bet you collected them when you were younger," he replied, deadpanned. The thought of Trixie playing with the cute but rather frilly toy was amusing and certainly didn't fit in with the picture he had of her as a rather rambunctious, rumbling and tumbling young girl.

"They were right up there with Barbie dolls," she replied with another giggle, followed by a sigh. "You can't blame Aunt Alicia for trying, though."

He fingered a tasteful vase filled to overflowing with a dozen smiling sunflowers. A matching yellow ribbon trimmed with green was wrapped around the large vase. "Your parents," she offered before he had a chance to ask the question. "I think Honey picked them out."

"Honey has always loved sunflowers," he murmured inconsequentially.

"I know. That's why I think she picked them out." Trixie found the clear blue vase that sat behind the sunflowers. It was smaller and not as ornate as the rest of the displays. It was the only one that hadn't come with a note but she hadn't had to ask anyone who the particular arrangement was from. The vase contained a cluster of orchids. Nothing more, nothing less, letting the flowers speak for themselves. It was the smallest of the arrangements, possibly because the giver had known that she wasn't one to care about the large or the ornate. She was more for the understated. "Thank you. Again," she murmured shyly.

No other words were needed. The corner of his lip tilted up. He slid an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. "My pleasure," he whispered back. Orchids had been the only possible choice for him, calling to him the way they had the day of a fateful dance when he had given what he had hoped had been her first orchids to her.

Trixie turned, a little too quickly, and felt the answering tug within her, pulling within her ribs and telling her clearly that she was not completely recovered. She had almost forgotten about her injury and couldn't prevent the hiss of pain from escaping past her lips.

Instantly worried, Jim framed her face in his hands, frowning at her and searching for any signs of pain. "What happened, Trix?" he asked her with forced ease.

She blew out a frustrated breath. "I moved a little too quickly, that's all," she muttered lowly, eyes narrowed into thin blue slits. She hated displays of weakness, especially when they were coming from her. She couldn't stand them even more when she had one right in front of Jim.

He slipped an arm around her waist and led her to the bed. With extreme carefulness, he gently assisted her as she sat on the foot of the bed. Then he examined her, looking her up and down, and doing his best to ascertain that she wasn't in any serious pain. He saw the cloud of pain leave her eyes, to be replaced by a rueful smile instead.

"I hate staying in bed," she burst out suddenly, her lips bowed in a small pout and her hands in small fists. "I can't begin to tell you how much I wish that I could be up and about again." Then she caught herself, hating to give in to a fit of temper, especially in front of Jim, and felt her anger deflate. "I'm sorry, Jim. I don't mean to whine to you."

"There's no need to feel sorry. I know how you're feeling," Jim replied, not surprised by her outburst at all. Knowing Trixie very well, he could tell that the inactivity was starting to get to her. Lifting a high eyebrow at her stack of homework, he also knew that wasn't the best way to keep her mind occupied. Hopefully his computer would help. "I remember how awful it felt. I know how you're feeling. I broke or bruised my ribs before, too. From what I remember of it, it's not a fun experience. I don't ever want to have that particular injury again."

Rather excited about being able to focus on something else, especially something she didn't already know about him, Trixie cocked her head to the side and forgot about the pull around her ribs. "Really? You broke or bruised your ribs? You don't know which one?"

He shook his head, preparing to let her glimpse into what his life with Jonesy had been like, and took a seat next to her, making sure to sit down slowly because he didn't want to bump or jostle her. "I have a pretty good idea, though. All I knew was that it hurt. A lot. It happened when I was fourteen."

"Oh." There wasn't much room at the foot of the twin bed to begin with. When he sat down, there wasn't an inch of spare space. Their knees touched. Their shoulders brushed against each other. Trixie couldn't scoot over without falling off the bed or making it too obvious that she was searching for a little more space but she was a little embarrassed, unsure how to respond to such close physical contact with Jim. She blinked when Jim casually put an around her, his hand resting loosely at her side, solving her problem without her having to do a single thing. It was much easier to rest on the bed with him supporting her. Settling into him more firmly, she couldn't help but breathe in the tantalizing scent of his cologne or feel how delightful it was to be so close to him. She cleared her throat before nervously asking, "What happened, Jim?" She couldn't remember Jim ever talking overly much about his time with his stepfather, to her or to anyone else, other than when they had first met, on that fateful day years ago in the old mansion. He had managed to successfully keep it to himself, as if that period of his life had been erased, and had seemed to rarely give it another thought. Studying his profile, she realized how wrong she had been to ever think that.

"He didn't bring me to the hospital to have it checked out. There wasn't anything unusual in that. He was never that nice to me, as you know. If he had ever brought me to the emergency room or to my doctor, the doctors and nurses there would have questioned me. I wouldn't have been able to lie," Jim shared after a few seconds of silence, staring straight ahead and into a past that only he could see. The solidity of her presence next to him helped him forge on. "I had done something wrong. Again."

Trixie furrowed her brows together. It was hard to think that Jim could ever do anything wrong. He was practically perfect, as far as she was concerned. "That can't be right, Jim. You never do anything wrong," she declared loyally.

"Thanks, Trix." His smile faded a bit while a stoic expression came across his face. "Jonesy never thought that, though. To him, it was the opposite. I never could do much right. I can't even remember what I did to make him mad that day. All I know is that I was up in the hayloft, tossing a few bales of hay down for the cows, when he found me up there." It was only a series of unpleasant memories, those years he lived with his horrible stepfather. He tried his best to block them out, to not let them affect him, but he knew that he would have to let Trixie in, to at least allow her to see portions of it, in order for them to grow and move on from friends to something else.

Trixie waited with baited breath for as long as she could, imagining the scene perfectly, and waiting for the final act, one which she was sure would be horrifying. When he didn't continue, she prompted, uncertain if she wanted to find out the answer, "What did he do, Jim?"

After all these years, he could still see Jonesy climbing up the ladder, how his face had been contorted into one of anger and hate. "He climbed up the ladder into the old hayloft. He was mad. Again, there was nothing unusual in that. He yelled at me for awhile and then hit me in the face. I fell against the railing, which gave way, and ended up falling to the floor below." It amazed him that he could still hear the creak of the old, rotting wood railing as it gave away, as well as the feeling of panic that had enveloped him during his brief fall to the barn floor. "I was lucky that I landed on the hay bales but not lucky enough to come away unhurt."

Not feeling her pain anymore, overcome with a feeling of fury that she had never experienced before, her eyes narrowed into blue slits of absolute fury, she complained loudly, "What a despicable, horrible man! How could he do something like that to you?"

"He hated me, about as much as I hated him," Jim answered back. He rubbed a hand along her back in an attempt to soothe away the taut anger she was experiencing. "I didn't want to upset you, Trix."

"You didn't upset me," she retorted, wishing she could get up and stomp off her righteous fury. "He did!" She didn't think she could ever despise someone as much as she did Tilney Britten but she realized she was wrong. Since she couldn't find relief from her feelings in movement, she settled for nuzzling her head into Jim's chest instead. "What did you do after that?"

"Well, he didn't bring me to the hospital, as I said before. I ended up hobbling into my room where I spent the next few days in bed. I didn't have to do any work and he left me alone for the time being," he answered back. It had been tough. He had spent the time flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, and planning for a life that didn't include Jonesy or the dilapidate, ugly farm that they lived on. Catching her profile out of the corner of his eye, he realized that his plans had turned out much better than he ever could have hoped for.

"Did you ever find out if you broke your ribs?" Trixie wondered after a moment. It terrified her, just as she had expected it would, and as much as her time with Britten had.

He picked up her hand and brought it under his cotton t-shirt, guiding it to the spot on his ribcage where he had hit the barn floor. "What do you feel here?" he asked, his voice huskier than normal.

The blush didn't want to leave her face. It seemed to have taken up permanent residence. Biting her lip, keeping her eyes downcast and on the tan color of his shirt, she tentatively felt his ribcage, feeling the indent under his skin that he had led her to. "Broken," she decided after a moment of silence. "Definitely."

He brought her hand back out from under his shirt and squeezed it for comfort, surprised that he could still feel the imprint of her hand on his skin. "But it healed, Trix. It took awhile but I healed. You will, too."

She had a feeling he was talking about much more than the just her body. His words from two nights before came back to her during their walk back to the road through the woods and, with a small gasp of surprise, she realized what he was telling her. It wasn't just the aches and pains of the body that would heal. It was also the rips that the experience had torn into her soul. "It seems like all I can do today is say thank you," she murmured, letting her head rest more firmly against his chest and feeling moisture pool in her eyes. "So, I'll say it again. Thank you."

He pulled her the tiniest bit closer, laid his head on top of hers, and barely resisted the urge to sigh. It felt so right, so solid. Staring down at the blonde curls under his cheek, he wondered how the hell he was going to be able to wait four more weeks until she graduated. When compared to the nearly three years he had waited, the remaining time was only a drop in the bucket but it seemed to be the worse. "You're welcome," he replied back huskily. "You are most certainly welcome."

They stayed like that, sitting on the edge of her bed, with their arms wrapped around each other, and his head resting on top of hers, both grateful for the presence of the other in their life, until Jim broke the silence. "What are you doing on Saturday?" He voiced the question he had been wanting to ask since he had come through her bedroom door.

Suddenly finding her unpainted fingernails very interesting, Trixie hesitated before saying quietly, "Not much of anything, I guess. I had to cancel my date for the prom yesterday. I didn't mind the need to cancel all that much but I feel awful because Honey's date ended up ditching her for the prom because I canceled on him. She told me that when she was here earlier."

He felt a brotherly instinct come to life, ready to annihilate one Michael Hartman into tiny pieces. "What?" he barked out, momentarily forgetting his true intentions.

Trixie felt the change in him and gave a short burst of laughter. "Don't worry. You don't need to become the big, bad older brother. From what I understand, Brian and Honey talked about the possibility already. He promised Honey he would take his place if Micheal canceled on her. I don't think Honey is all that upset over the change in her date so much," she finished with an added twinkle to her eyes.

He visibly relaxed. Honey's happiness mattered the most to him. Michael would be safe to live another day. And if Honey went to the prom with Brian and Mart still went with Di, then that meant that…His lips pulled back into a grin that could almost be termed feral. "That still doesn't tell me about you. Are you doing anything on Saturday?" he repeated again.

She gestured weakly back towards her desk. "Most likely that."

"Well, I have an offer, in case you're interested," Jim put forward, hiding his nerves behind a low cough.

"An offer? Sounds interesting." And it did, very much so. Trixie held her breath, waiting in rapt anticipation for his next words, while the rate of her heart started to pick up.

"It seems to me that we talked about how I spent my prom night the day of our Bob-White picnic. Remember?" He remembered it well. The flare of temper Mart had caused her to experience, the way the two of them had been left alone to talk on the dock, and a perfect moment for kissing that he had regrettably let pass them by.

Hope started to burst within her. Of course she remembered. "Of course," she mumbled, twisting her hands together. She remembered practically everything he had ever said to her during the course of their friendship.

"If you're interested and it's all right with your parents, I thought I'd gather up some movies and keep you company here. It's not your senior prom, but..." Jim cleared his throat.

"I didn't want to go to my prom anyway," Trixie responded truthfully. "We already talked about that. I was only going because Di and Honey wanted me to."

"Saturday night, then?" Jim tried to keep how important her answer was to him out of his eyes but he couldn't hide the intense way he studied her.

She nodded. "That sounds wonderful." And it did, so much better than going to a dance, even one that was supposed to be as special as a high school prom, and definitely much better than doing homework or hanging out with the rest of her family. Time with Jim, at her house, without the other Bob-Whites around. As much as she loved the others, she couldn't help but be excited about the fact that most of them would be at the prom.

Happy with her answer, he snuggled her a bit closer. "I'll pick the movies," he said, hoping to get a giggle out of her.

It worked. "No comedies," she ordered him, starting to feel the effects of her physical exertions. She stifled one yawn before letting her head rest fully against his chest, which she thought was much better than the most comfortable of pillows. "It still hurts me too much to really laugh," she added after a minute, finding it hard to concentrate on their conversation. Against her will, her eyelids closed before she popped them back open.

He made a mental note of it. "Got it." Then Jim caught the yawn she couldn't hide, felt the heavier weight of her head against his chest, and heard the evenness of her breathing. "Getting tired again, huh?"

Closing her eyes, she nodded against his chest. "I hate to say it but I think it's time for another nap." Eyes half-closed, she let him guide her up and willingly followed him around the bed. "I did set a new record, though. I've been up since nine-thirty this morning." But her voice was sounding thicker. Her eyelids felt like they weighed a ton and were getting much harder to keep open. She climbed back into bed, already half asleep before he tucked the light cotton blanket back around her. "Thanks again, Jim," she mumbled quietly before her breathing evened out and she was asleep.

Wondering if she always fell asleep that quickly or if it was simply the help of the pain medication catching up with her, he stared down at her, memorizing the quiet sounds she made, as well as the peaceful way she looked while she slept, and slowly sank back down into her desk chair. It wasn't the most comfortable seat but it certainly beat the chair he had spent the entire night at in the hospital. "Saturday night," he muttered to himself, looking forward to it. It wasn't exactly a date; it couldn't be, not with his promise to his parents. It was more like two friends getting together to watch movies but the potential for something more was there, shining out of his reach, just beyond the horizon. He couldn't wait for Saturday to come.


	46. Chapter 45

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Forty-Five

Brian pulled into the driveway, surprised to see that his father's car wasn't there yet. Glancing at the clock on the dashboard of the van, he saw that it was past five o'clock and parked his car next to the station wagon, barely resisting the urge to rest his head against the steering wheel. There was the slightest of aches beginning to pound behind his eyes, either from the stress of the drive home from the city or the meeting with his advisor or a combination of both. Slowly, he got out of the van and walked to the back door. Playful laughter and voices that belonged to his brothers floated back to him from the side of the house. Hearing the rhythmic sound of a baseball hitting a glove, he realized that the two were busy in a resounding game of catch.

Taking a deep breath, he pasted what he hoped past for a normal smile on his lips and slid in through the back door, hoping to find the kitchen empty. Luck wasn't with him, hadn't been with him all day. Between the hectic drive in, the outcome of his meeting, and the drive back home where he had spent a good hour at a complete standstill, thanks to some irritating road construction that couldn't be bypassed, he had hoped to spend some time alone."Hi, Moms," he greeted her after entering the kitchen, hanging her set of car keys on the hook, and tried not to meet her face. He wouldn't be able to hide his disappointment from her.

But Helen wasn't paying close attention to her eldest, the one she worried the least about. A little harried and a lot frustrated because she was extremely off schedule, she brushed back a strand of hair from her forehead and nodded at Brian, her hands deep in the meat she was using to make her famous meatloaf. Inwardly groaning, she realized she should have gone with her first instinct and made a simple dinner of hamburgers and French fries. "We're a little behind tonight, Brian," she began in as cheerful a voice as she could muster, unaware that he had learned how to successfully hide his emotions from her. "I spent most of the day out of the house. I didn't get back from my luncheon for the garden club until four. There was a message waiting for me from your father. He has a late meeting. I don't expect him home for at least another half hour. Dinner's going to be late," she added a bit mournfully.

That suited him fine. An hour before he had to face his inquisitive and rather boisterous family would help him. "Don't worry about it, Moms." He thought about his brothers out in the yard and walked over to the window where he could see Bobby winding up. "I can see that Mart and Bobby are keeping each other entertained. What about Trixie?"

"She's upstairs, of course. When I looked in on her after I got home she was actually starting to work on some of her homework." A smile helped fight the irritation she was feeling. It had been sweet to see her daughter engrossed in her schoolwork, using the laptop that Jim had supplied her with. She didn't know that Trixie had not been working at all. Instead, she had taken him up on his offer and had been searching through the different websites and emails that Jim had saved on his computer. "Jim let her borrow his laptop for the week since she has so much work to do. I think it gave her an extra incentive to begin her assignments."

He had known his friend was going to do that, imagining that it had pleased Trixie immensely. He would have loved to have made a similar offer to his sister but his laptop was in the hands of a friend who was doing their best to clean up the results of a nasty virus that had wormed its way through his protection. "I saw the station wagon outside. Is Jim still here?"

Helen worked on forming the meatloaf into the pan, competence showing in every movement she made. Making meatloaf was rather therapeutic on a day when nothing had quite gone as she had expected it to, helping her to release some of the stress she was feeling. "No, not anymore. Honey and Di came by earlier in the day with more schoolwork for Trixie. The car wouldn't start when they needed to go back to school so Mart drove them in." Studying the pan, she slipped it into the oven and then turned to the sink, needing to wash her hands. "Honey is visiting now. She walked down from her house right after school. She wanted to see Trixie again."

Honey was upstairs. Brian's eyes immediately went to the doorway, almost as if he expected her to be walking through it at any given moment. Not surprisingly, she wasn't, so he offered to assist his mother instead. "Do you need help, Moms?" Ever the most attentive and responsible of the Belden siblings, he didn't want to leave without offering to help first. "You look rather busy."

She shook her head, turning the offer down without a second thought. "Not tonight, Brian. I'm not in the mood for someone else in the kitchen. We'll be eating in about an hour." Huffing out a small breath, she opened the refrigerator to get the vegetables she needed for the salad and closed it with a little more force than was necessary. "It hasn't been the best of days."

He understood that perfectly. "All right, Moms." More than pleased that his mother had rejected his offer to help, not certain if he had it in him to converse with anyone else, even if that person was his mother, a sibling or Honey Wheeler, he exited the door he had recently come through and called over his shoulder, "I'm going for a walk, Moms. It was a long drive home today." Correction, he thought with a thread of sarcasm that didn't sit well upon his broad shoulders, it had been an extremely long, irritating and terrible day. Brian caught her absent farewell and started down the back steps.

There was the sound of a baseball popping into a glove. "Nice one, Bobby!" Mart's excited voice yelled from the side of the house. "That one was really moving! It's still making my hand sting!"

Standing in the shadows of the trees, Brian watched as Bobby shrugged a shoulder after he caught the ball, not making any attempt to join them. "It wouldn't have been a strike, Mart," Bobby disagreed with an intensity that was surprising for one so young. Frowning down at the ball, he adjusted his grip on it until he felt that he had it just right, wanting the next pitch to be perfect. "Let's try it again."

Brian quietly blended into the background, not letting them know that he was there, and observed the next pitch. He saw his younger brother grin with pride and felt an odd sense of envy overcome him. It had been a long time since something as small as a game of catch could make him experience the emotions that Bobby was feeling right now. Then he found the well-worn path that led to the clubhouse. Making his feet as quiet as he could, Brian started up the path with one last look at his brothers and the white farmhouse. As much as he loved his home and his family, he needed solitude more.

Hands stuck deep into the pockets of his pants, his feet trampling on the bed of old pine needles and dirt, he contemplated his meeting with his advisor, recalling it in perfect detail. It hadn't gone the way he had expected to. He had expected to meet his new advisor, discover his work schedule, and learn what their requirements would be. But it hadn't worked out that way at all. First, his advisor, who was at least seven months pregnant, had greeted him with a remorseful smile and then had given him the longest apology he had ever received in his entire life. It seemed that none of her fellow doctors who worked with her at the hospital were willing to take on a summer intern, which meant that she had the regrettable and terrible task of informing him that he no longer had a summer internship with her hospital. She had been genuinely repentant for canceling his internship but that hadn't assuaged his pride or made him feel any better. His entire summer now stretched out before him with absolutely nothing on the horizon. He, Brian Belden, who had become used to an extremely hectic and grueling schedule, had absolutely nothing to do. No assignments. No job. Nothing. There was not a thing to keep him occupied.

He heaved a deep sigh, wondering how the hell he was going to get through the entire summer without going insane. Not used to not having a whole slew of assignments, textbook readings, and work to keep him busy, he wasn't sure what he was going to do with his time. "I'll have to find a job somewhere," he grumbled to himself, kicking a stone on the path for good measure. Mart and Dan would let him tag-along on their lawn-care jobs if he asked them to but he had too much pride. He wouldn't be asking them to take on a third worker. There was always the hospital. If he couldn't get a paying job there, he could volunteer. Other possibilities ran through his jumbled mind. He started to discard the bad ones and made a mental chart of all of the ones that he deemed acceptable.

Still stunned by the unexpected revelation, Brian continued on his walk, not noticing the familiar scenery that he past. He walked right by his original destination, the clubhouse, without a second look and was astonished to find himself at the lake a few minutes later. Deciding it didn't really matter where he was and not having the energy to turn around and sulk in the clubhouse like he had intended, he sat down at the edge of the lake. Picking up a rock, he sent it skimming along the top of the water, finding a bit of pleasure at the way it feel to the bottom of lake, much like his hopes for his summer internship.

On her way back home from Crabapple Farm, Honey traveled the same path, her mind on the short essay she needed to write and turn in for her English class by the end of the week. Thinking through the question, attempting to come up with a way to begin her essay, she came to an abrupt halt, covering her mouth with her hand. Smoothing a hand over her hair, upset with the fact that she had decided to pull it back into an unsophisticated ponytail, she contemplated Brian, saw the rigid set of his shoulders and the way he was staring out over the water. She knew Brian Belden much better than anyone realized. Easy to ascertain that he was not in the most cheerful of moods, she slowly started to back up, unwilling to interrupt his thoughts and deciding that it would be best to quietly continue on her way, only to have her good intentions derailed by a snapping twig. Grimacing at the sharp noise, she frowned at the ground, wishing a hole would simply open up and swallow her whole.

The sound broke through his melancholy thoughts. Whipping his head around, he was surprised to see one slightly embarrassed Honey Wheeler smiling sheepishly back at him. "Honey," he greeted her softly. He realized he had been wrong. He wouldn't mind conversing with her.

She motioned weakly towards the path, feeling a rosy blush start to paint her cheeks. "I didn't mean to bother you, Brian. I'm actually on my way home from your house. I stopped in to see Trix again, you know. Well, you may not know, since you weren't there this morning, but Di and I brought her some more homework today. During school, of course, not right now. I wanted to see how she was doing. I had to walk, you know, not that I really mind walking, but the station wagon wouldn't start. That's why it's sitting in your driveway," she finally finished, disgusted with the rambling mess she always seemed to be reduced to in his presence, and twisted her hands together. That damn hole didn't appear to take her away from her embarrassment.

"Moms told me about the car," he shared, hiding his amusement at her jumbled explanation behind a small smile. As much as he had tried to avoid talking with his family, he was stunned to discover it was not that difficult for him to talk with Honey. "She said that it wouldn't start earlier today."

She shook her head, sending her ponytail dancing. "I think you're going to have to work your magic on it when you get the chance," Honey said, giggling nervously. "Since your mother told you about it, then you probably know that it wouldn't start when Di and I needed to go back to school. Mart ended up giving us a ride in."

If the station wagon didn't work and neither of his parents' cars was available, then how did Mart drive them in? Confused, feeling as if he was attempting to solve a rather tricky math problem, Brian wondered aloud, "How was Mart able to drive you back to school?"

She waved an airy hand. "Jim's Pathfinder, of course."

"That's right. Jim was supposed to stop by the house today." Brian imagined that Jim had enjoyed spending time with his sister, especially uninterrupted time, and made a mental decision to look at the station wagon first thing in the morning. It would help keep him occupied. "So you were able to get back to school on time?"

"We were only a few minutes late. Mr. Stratton was very nice to us. He didn't mark us down as tardy which he clearly should have." Honey resisted the urge to giggle again, wishing she could be cooler and more composed when she was near him. But that seemed to be an impossible feat for her to accomplish. Groaning at herself, she realized she would have to be satisfied with maintaining her end of an understandable conversation and vowed not to ramble again.

"Mr. Stratton must be mellowing with age or the fact that he's getting nearer to his retirement." Brian patted the ground next to him, inviting her to come over. "Why don't you have a seat, Honey?"

She didn't need another invitation. Walking over on feet that practically wanted to lift her off the ground and float her over to him, Honey came over and gracefully sat down next to him. Looking out over the still of the water, she whispered, "It's so beautiful and peaceful here. I forget how gorgeous the lake can be in the late afternoon."

"We don't always take the time to appreciate the things that we should," Brian agreed quickly. He would have a lot of time to do just that. An entire summer's worth. Studying her profile, enjoying the presence of her next to him, he came to the startling realization that he wasn't as upset about the cancellation of his internship as he had been only a few short minutes ago. A whole summer in Sleepyside, without the pressures of college or an internship, and with the opportunity to see Honey every single day, should he desire it. Feeling her accidentally brush her shoulder against his, he came to the startling conclusion that he most certainly did desire it.

"How was your day? Trixie mentioned that you were in New York City today." Picking up a stick, she absently rolled it back and forth in her hands, and then began to snap it into small pieces, trying not to stare at him too intently.

He opened the door to his bad day without a second thought. "It wasn't that good," Brian answered truthfully, the words coming out of him with more ease than he had imagined they ever could. It was much easier talking about it than he had thought it would be.

She dropped the sticks and studied him, instantly alert and concerned. Her eyebrows snapped together. "What do you mean, Brian?"

He picked up one of her broken sticks and hummed it into the water. "I should have known it was going to be awful from the start. In spite of the fact that I thought I was going to miss the rush hour morning traffic, I realized that I was completely wrong. It took me half an hour to move two blocks," he told her, remembering the feelings of frustration at the standstill.

"Ouch." Honey pulled her legs up and laid her head on her knees, keeping him within her sights. There was more than just bad traffic bothering him but she would let him tell her in his own way and time. "That's not good, Brian. My parents hate driving in traffic. That's why they hired Tom to drive them into the city instead. At least then my father can get some work done in the car and my mother can nap or talk on the phone."

"Well, after I finally found a parking space, I managed to make it to my meeting. I was only half an hour late," he couldn't resist adding. The entire day had turned into a comedy of errors; only, he hadn't found it that funny and he wasn't laughing over it at all. "Luckily I had called my advisor ahead of time so she knew why I would be late. She wasn't upset with me for not getting there on time."

He was always thoughtful and considerate, Honey thought to herself. "What happened next?" she prompted him after he stopped.

"The meeting itself was longer than it should have been. She spent most of the time apologizing to me. She could have told me the news over the phone or by email but she didn't want to do it that way," he explained, staring at Honey out of the corner of his eyes, and prepared to say the words for the first time. "You see, she wanted to meet me in person so that she could cancel my internship."

Honey's gasp of astonishment was loud. She drew back, one hand on her hip, and felt her mouth drop into a small circle of astonishment. Once she was able to get past the shock, she found her voice. "Oh, no! You have got to be kidding me!" she exclaimed, affronted on her friend's behalf. "That's not fair!"

"There's nothing that could be done about it. She is going on maternity leave at the end of the week. It's much earlier than she had expected." He recalled how genuinely upset and sorry she had been. It hadn't made the news easier to take. "She really tried to get someone to take her place as my advisor. But the other doctors either had summer plans that conflicted or already had an intern and weren't willing to take on another." He laid his hands out in front of him. "My bad luck. She didn't have a choice but to cancel my internship."

"I still think it's awful," Honey declared, her eyebrows drawn together. "They should never have let you be the one who got canceled. No," she added loyally, shaking her head vehemently. He was mesmerized by the way the sun brought the gold highlights out of her hair and had to focus on her words. "In my opinion, they should have fired another intern and let you take that one's place."

It felt good to hear her defend him. Slipping an arm around her slim shoulders, he squeezed her to him. "Don't worry about me, Honey. I'm already coming to grips with it. Believe it or not, I'm finding that I'm not as upset about it as I thought I would be."

Ready to go on the rampage for him, she was stopped short. Staring at him, she realized that he was telling her the truth. While she could still read surprise and a bit of disappointment on his face, she actually thought that she saw a little bit of relief mixed in there, as well. "Brian! You really don't mind it too much, do you?"

He had thought it was going to bother him for a long time to come but, seeing her, talking to her, explaining it to her, had made him realize that he was actually a little relieved to have his internship canceled. A whole load of pressure was taken off of him, one he hadn't wanted to admit that he had been carrying. Plus there was the added fact that he would be able to spend an entire summer at home, with his friends, family, and with Honey. "I don't," he admitted. When it looked like she was going to ask why, he forestalled her. "I pushed myself a little too hard this past semester. It may be much better for me in the long run to take a little time off. There's always next semester to worry about building up my resume."

Honey let the shared confidence sink in. Chewing off her remaining lipstick, she looked out over the lake. Reflections from the sun sent golden beams across the top of the water, making it look more like a priceless painting than a real, live relaxing scene from nature. "In that case, then I don't think I'll have to that talk with your pregnant almost-advisor," Honey replied, only half-joking. "It was going to be a good one, too," she added.

His laughter was low, long and very therapeutic. "I would have liked to have seen that," Brian informed her. He had witnessed how protective Honey could be towards her friends and family, and how fierce she was to protect them.

"Too late," Honey joked back, playfully swatting his arm. She had a second to feel the strength in his muscles and to wonder what it would feel like to have those strong arms wrapped around her. Clearing her throat past the large lump that had taken up residence there, she breathed out, "You've already admitted that you have accepted the fact that your advisor has fired you for the summer."

Brian's chuckles faded away. Lifting his arm off of her shoulder, he picked up a rock and turned it around in his hands, feeling its smoothness. "To top off my day, I also had a horrible ride home. The traffic was even worse than on the way into the city. So I had a terrible trip in, I got fired before I even started my internship, and my ride home was even worse." Brian felt a grin tug at his lips, not overly upset about his day. It had started looking up the second she had sat down next to him.

"My day was a little better than yours," Honey remarked idly, trying to dredge up the courage to tell him about her sudden lack of a prom date, and find out if he was still willing to stand in for Michael. "I got to help Di through her first day back at school. I was given permission to leave the school grounds to come and visit your sister." She tapped a finger against her chin and blurted it out. "And my prom date canceled out on me, much the same way your advisor canceled out on you."

His day was looking better and better. There had to be something magical about Sleepyside. "He canceled? On you?" He thought that Michael Hartman must be the stupidest male on the face of the earth.

"Yes." Honey nodded, studying the ground. She watched an ant lumber by their feet. Closing her eyes, she told him the rest of it, her words coming out on a rush, "He met me before homeroom today and gave me his ticket. He told me it wouldn't bother him at all if I went with someone else to the prom, not that I need his permission anyway. He was the one who ditched me, after all, and I am my own person. I certainly didn't need him to tell me that." She stopped herself, realizing she was on the verge of yet another rambling explanation, and waited for his reaction.

He was going to have a few things to keep him busy over the next few days besides trying to fix the station wagon, he mused to himself, already having a list form in his mind. There was only three days before the prom. He would need to find a tuxedo, order the perfect flowers for her, and discover what had already been planned for the night. Trying to fight the grin that wanted to split his face in half, he gave it up. He couldn't believe he was finally going to make it to a high school prom, with the girl he had wanted to take to his. "How do you feel about that, Honey?"

"I was prepared for it," she shared, trying her best not to ask him if he would be willing to go with her in Michael's place. Eyes downcast, she didn't see the large smile on Brian's face. "We talked about it on Saturday…well, I guess it was technically early Sunday morning, you know, when we were at the hospital. I was expecting it, really." That was the closest she was able to bring herself to asking him if he meant what he said, that he would be willing to be her prom date if Michael dumped her.

"Right." Brian stood up and held out a hand towards her, helping her up from the ground. Dusting off his pants, he kept her hand snugly within his. "You'll have to let me know what you and Di have planned for Saturday. I doubt I'll be able to get anything out of Mart. He's not the best detail man in the world, unless it involves food. I'll get everything that I need for your prom."

He meant it, just like Trixie had said. She had been afraid to believe it, absolutely, positively terrified that he had only been consoling her but hadn't really meant to follow through on his offer. Stupid, stupid, totally stupid, she thought to herself. As his sister had said, Brian Belden never said anything that he didn't mean. "I'll talk our plans over with Di tonight. I'll fill you in as soon as everything is finalized," she said softly, unable to believe her good fortune. He was going to take her to her senior prom.

He started walking towards the path with an energy that had been missing during his sojourn to the lake. Feeling revitalized, he responded easily, "Great, Honey. I know I'm not your first choice but I'll do my best. We'll have a wonderful time together."

She almost choked. How could he not know that he was her first choice, not only as a prom date, but for practically everything? She sucked in a deep breath and bit her lip, barely holding back those words. "Yes, " she responded, carefully choosing her words lest the truth should sneak through and thoroughly embarrass her in front of the very person who meant the most to her in the entire world, "I believe the same thing. We will have a perfectly perfect time on Saturday." When they came to the path, she reluctantly dropped his hand and waved at him."Have a good night, Brian," she called back after she started up the path to her house. "And thanks so much."

He watched her leave, enjoying the sight of the ponytail swinging rhythmically back and forth with each step that she took away from him. The smile lifting his lips was real and much happier than he had anticipated it to be. The tension headache that had plagued him earlier was a thing of the past. Whistling with a cheerfulness he didn't think he would have been capable of so soon after the news, he started off in the opposite direction, his lost internship the furthest thing from his mind, and wishing that Saturday came right after Tuesday.


	47. Chapter 46

**Into The Light **

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Forty-Six

Fresh from visiting his uncle who was recovering from a nasty bout of bronchitis, Dan took the steps two at a time, Mrs. Belden's empty Tupperware container in his hands, whistling the entire way. Stopping when he reached the bottom of the stairs, he tilted his head, listening to the sounds coming from inside the stables. Rock music could be heard quietly pouring out. Curious, he entered the building, determined to see who had entered his uncle's domain.

Jim glanced up the second Dan came inside. "Hey, Dan," he called out from the far end of the stables where he was filling up a bucket with fresh water for the horses. He turned off the radio that rested on a shelf above the sink, cutting off the strains of _Radar Love_ by Golden Earring without a regret, and carried the bucket over to his friend, his movements jerky and awkward as he attempted to keep the water from spilling from the bucket. "Have you been up to see Regan?"

"He's in a foul mood," Dan replied, leaning against an empty stall and crossing one ankle over the other. Snickering lowly, he added, his voice tinged with humor, "As you must know by now, Uncle Bill makes an absolutely horrible patient. All he did the entire time I was there was complain, complain and, did I mention it? He complained." He broke into a short sarcastic chortle before continuing, "He hates being laid up but I assured him it would only be for a day or two. He'll feel better pretty quickly. He always bounces back quickly."

"Tom and I had to practically force him to go to the doctor's today," Jim put in with a wry chuckle. "Regan kept denying that anything was wrong even though he was pale as a ghost. He also had a fever and a raspy cough but he wouldn't admit it. He kept saying that he was going to be fine and that we needed to stop coddling him like he was a baby." Shaking his head at the redheaded groom's stubbornness, he interjected, "I was finally able to get him into the car and Tom drove away as quickly as possible before Regan could jump out of the vehicle. Tom told me later that Regan stopped grumbling and became resigned to the fact that he was being forced to go to the doctor's by the time they hit Glen Road."

"He has bronchitis." Dan thought of his uncle, who was reclining in bed and looking the most miserable he had ever seen him, and felt his humor fade away. Uncle Bill had looked awful. Tapping the container against the side of the stall, he said, "I happened to be dropping Mart off at his house after we finished up our last job when Mrs. Belden asked one of us to bring up some soup to my uncle. She had made it especially for him. He ate a good part of it, too."

"I'm sure Mr. Maypenny will be pitching in to feed our newest invalid," Jim responded, thinking of his famous chicken noodle soup. He gave fresh water to Jupiter, who nuzzled his face into Jim's hand as his way of showing his appreciation. Jim patted him back before placing the empty bucket at his feet. "When Tom brought him back, all Regan could talk about were the horses. I promised him that I would be glad to take care of the horses while he was recovering. I don't have anything else pressing on my schedule right now."

Other than spending time with Trixie, Dan thought but kept the words to himself. "Yeah. He told me that. He's grateful to you. Now he won't have to worry about the horses as much." Dan bent down and picked up a piece of loose straw.

"I know he'll be down here first thing in the morning, whether he should be out of bed or not. He'll want to check up on the horses. He'll also want to see that I'm taking good care of them." Extremely aware of the high expectations Regan had for anyone in charge of 'his' horses, Jim gave another dry chuckle. "I'm not leaving this place until I can be completely sure it will pass his inspection tomorrow."

"Good choice." Dan rolled the straw between his fingers, arched an eyebrow and considered his prey. Keeping his smile to himself, he decided to start out easy. "Mart and I had a busy day today. We had a lot of ground to make up since he was out yesterday. I wasn't able to get everything finished. He had to stay home with Trixie, as you probably know." He slid a glance towards Jim, preparing himself for some enjoyment. He inquired, his voice deceptively innocent, "How is she doing, by the way? I haven't had a chance to stop in and see her since we left the hospital on Sunday."

"Good. Real good. I saw her yesterday," Jim mumbled, averting his gaze, and suddenly more interested in filling up another bucket of water than in looking Dan in the face. Choosing his words carefully, he continued, "I think she's making a better patient than Regan. She hasn't started complaining yet. At least, not about having to stay home. But she isn't thrilled with the amount of homework her teachers have given her. She has a large stack of it to do before she heads back to school next week."

Dan couldn't keep the grin off his face, knowing exactly why Jim was contemplating the water bucket like it was the most interesting object he had ever seen in the entire world, and prodded for more with a innocent expression on his face. "Mart mentioned to me that you dropped off your laptop for her to use yesterday." He didn't say anymore but waited for Jim's response.

Jim felt the tell-tale flush smear its way across his cheeks. "She has a lot of homework," he repeated under his breath, picking up the water bucket and carrying it over to Lady's stall next.

"Letting her borrow your laptop is nothing, right?" When Jim didn't answer, only poured in the fresh water for Lady and ignored him, Dan remarked, having a hard time keeping the laughter out of his voice, "I mean, offering her a laptop is nothing compared to giving her a diamond ring or a bracelet, is it?"

Jim mumbled something incoherently and headed back to the sink, groaning inwardly when he heard Dan follow him. He bit out a small, satisfying curse word when he realized that Dan wasn't finished with him, and stared down at the water, wishing he could throw the contents into his friend's smiling face.

Knowing exactly what he was doing and how Jim was taking it, Dan continued with a relentlessness that he hid behind a disarming and charming smile, "He also said that you let him borrow your car to take Honey and Di back to school since the station wagon wasn't working. Of course, Mart made sure that you knew that Trixie needed someone to stay with her." He had to bite his lip to keep from exploding with laughter when Jim's shoulders stiffened. "How long did it take for you to make that offer?"

Jim brought his head up and leveled his emerald eyes on Dan, fed up at being the target of his friend's amusement. "I think that's enough," he muttered meaningfully, letting his irritation show on his face. He was not amused

The stables filled with the gleeful laughter he couldn't contain any longer. Dan grinned unrepentantly and clapped his friend on the back, not apologetic in the least. "Don't mind me, Jim. I happen to be the only male Bob-White not attempting to pair up with one of the lovely ladies in our midst. You're going to have to get used to it. So will Brian and Mart. I have to find enjoyment in something, you know."

Jim dropped his gaze and turned back to the sink, recalling how Dan had held onto Trixie's hand in her hospital room just to rile him up. Emitting a low grunt, he realized that he was going to have to get a thicker skin. It wouldn't surprise him at all if a good amount of the Bob-Whites started to tease them, once he and Trixie became an official couple. And they would. He had no doubts about that. There were only twenty-eight days to go. Letting it go with as much grace as he could muster, he replied sarcastically, "Mart's doing a good job of keeping you informed. What else has he told you?"

Dan's smile fell off his face. His dark eyes turned serious and somber. "Mart told me that Brian lost his internship," he stated quietly, feeling sympathy for their friend, knowing how much Brian had been counting on the internship.

Absently patting Susie before supplying her with water, Jim nodded, extremely grateful to get off the subject of one Beatrix Belden. "Brian called me last night to tell me about it. At first, I was shocked that he had lost it. Then I was even more surprised because it didn't seem to bother him too much." As Brian's roommate for the past three years, he had witnessed how dedicated Briand was and how ruthlessly he pushed himself when it came to his academic work. Jim had expected Brian to be disappointed and saddened by the loss of his internship, not relieved and almost excited. "He didn't seem overly upset about losing it. In fact, if I didn't know him any better, I would have to say that he was glad that he didn't have it any longer."

"Mart said the same thing. Good for Brian. He can use a break. He works too hard." Dan glanced at the back of the stables, grinning wickedly to himself when he saw the table where they had played a couple hands of blackjack a few weeks earlier and hooked a thumb towards it. "What do you think, Jim? We've got the whole evening ahead of us. Are you up for a game of cards?"

Jim's bark of laughter was short and bitter. "Not on your life," he shot back smoothly. Arching an eyebrow, he retorted, "I can guarantee you that I never plan on playing cards or any other game with you ever again. You proved to me how lethal you can be, Mangan."

Sighing dramatically, Dan glanced up at the ceiling. "I'll guess I'll have to wait until the fall semester starts back up. It'll be hard but I think I'll be able to make it until then. I'll have to try and find some fresh, unsuspecting victims at school."

Jim leaned against the railing, the empty bucket dangling from his hand. "I think we're going to have a great year. It's going to be amazing to have all seven of us in the same city. It will be hard to balance our schedules but I'm certain we'll be able to manage time for a few get-togethers."

Dan arched an eyebrow, well aware of why Jim thought the upcoming year would be 'amazing.' He would have unlimited access to Trixie, without any parents around. He imagined that Mart was looking forward to it with the same amount of excitement, for exactly the same reason. Dan highly doubted if he would see as much of his roommate during the upcoming school year, believing that he would spend more time with Di than anyone else. And then there was Brian…thinking back to something else Mart had told him during their work day, he remarked, "Mart also mentioned that Honey's prom date backed out on her. He said that Brian will be taking Honey to the prom now."

Jim retraced his footsteps back to the sink for yet another bucket of water, thinking to himself that his chores would go much quicker if Dan would only deign to help him. But Dan didn't seem to have a helpful bone in his body at the moment. He seemed to be content to watch, observe, and to stir the pot. "Honey looked ecstatic when she told our parents about the switch in her prom date last night," he said.

"Do they have any problems with Brian as her new date?" Dan wondered, aware of the decree made by each set of parents three years earlier.

"No, not at all. They see him as a friend helping another friend out, not as a romantic date." It was probably the same way the Beldens viewed him and why they hadn't rejected his offer to spend Saturday evening with Trixie. "No one wants to get dumped, especially with less than a week to go before the prom." He had seen murder reflected briefly in Matthew Wheeler's eyes when Honey had explained about her date canceling out on her. It had disappeared quickly when Honey had finished sharing the rest of her news. They were pleased that Brian was going to step in and take Honey to the prom.

He already knew Jim's plans for Saturday night. Mart had been a fountain of information. But he simply couldn't resist the urge to goad him, at least one more time before he called it a night. "Where does that leave Trixie? If Honey and Brian and Mart and Di are all going out on Saturday, what will she be doing? Will she be home, all alone?"

Jim found himself in the exact same pose as he had been in only a few minutes earlier, staring at the water bucket in his hands with a fresh flush working its way across his face, and damning his friend. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Dan already knew his plans. He was merely making him admit it out loud to him. "No. She's not going to be alone. We're going to watch movies together," he got out lowly.

Dark amusement danced across his face. The upcoming summer promised to be a fun one. Teasing Jim was fast becoming one of his favorite pastimes. "If you would like more company, I'd be willing to stop by Crabapple Farm on Saturday night," he chirped out blithely. Dan sounded sincere but the teasing glint in his dark eyes gave him away.

Jim drew back, his fierce gaze cutting through his friend, and his eyes narrowed into deep, emerald slits of pure annoyance. "I don't think so," he answered harshly, his tone not allowing for any arguments.

Dan laugh was long and hard. He was extremely entertained, all at his friend's expense, and he didn't feel an ounce of regret for teasing Jim. "In that case, I'll plan on keeping myself busy for the evening." It promised to be an interesting summer. He had a strong suspicion that he was going to be thoroughly amused while he watched his friends start to pair off into the couples that he had predicted would happen soon after meeting them. It had only taken his friends five years to get their acts together. That wasn't so bad, he thought with a philosophical shrug of his shoulder. At least Jim and Brian had a good excuse for taking their time. They hadn't had a choice. Deciding that he had poked enough fun at Jim enough for one evening, he gave him a two-fingered salute and sauntered towards the door, "I'll see you later, Jim. Have a good night."

Dan started the walk to Crabapple Farm and to his truck, his trademark whistle announcing his presence, and enjoyed the scenery around him. He enjoyed the walk, appreciating the way the evening had begun to turn from light to dusk. The shadows that the trees threw on the ground were the longest they had been all day, starting to blend in with the coming of the night, while the once-busy sounds of the birds and the other forest animals slowed down until there was only an occasional murmur. It wasn't too long before the outline of the farmhouse came into view.

He headed towards front of the house, to return the container and to say farewell before driving off for home. Hearing the squeak of the porch swing, he changed directions and made it to the back porch first. Brought to a halt at the bottom of the steps, his face lit up with surprise when he saw who was occupying the swing. "Trixie!" he exclaimed, delighted. "I didn't expect to see you out here tonight."

It was the first time she had been outside since the ride home from the hospital. It was more enjoyable than she had expected and made her feel liberated. It was amazing how much a small touch of nature could do for her soul. She looked up at Dan, a welcoming smile wreathing her face. "Hello, Dan," she said, setting aside the book she had been reading and placing it underneath her notebook. "I finally got sick and tired of my room. It took a while but I managed to make it downstairs. The stairs were the hardest part." She wasn't excited about the return trip to her room but the pain had been worth it. She loved seeing the downstairs again. And being outside…she couldn't find the words to describe it.

Dan came up the steps and sat down in the chair across from her. He missed nothing in her appearance, hiding his frown at the state of her face, and noticed the violet circles under her eyes that told of at least one sleepless night. Looking past the marks on her face, he focused on her eyes, much more interested in discovering her emotional state. She looked happy and relaxed but he knew from personal experience how easily someone could hide their true feelings behind a mask. "Tell me how everything is with you, Trix," he began, wanting to hear what her response would be to the simple question. She would lie to him, he knew it before the words were out of her mouth.

"Pretty good," she answered, a little too quickly, and slid her eyes to the floor. "I'm trying to wean myself off of my pain medication, which means that I have been able to stay awake for longer periods of time."

"That's good." Dan leaned back in his chair, his hands folded in his lap, and prepared to assess her more completely than she expected him to. She wasn't a bad liar but she couldn't fool him. Deciding not to call her on it yet, he motioned towards her book."What are you reading?"

"_The Epic of Gilgamesh_." She gave a small grin when she saw his comical grimace and then pulled out the second book. "But I'm not reading that book. Believe it or not, Brian surprised me with the _Cliff Notes_ to it today. He snuck it into my room earlier." She pulled them from her notebook and held them aloft, keeping one eye tuned in to the opened doorway. "This is what I'm really reading."

"Good for Brian." Dan was impressed. It seemed that their eldest was definitely mellowing with age.

On solid ground now that the conversation wasn't centering around her, Trixie pointed towards the barn. "Brian's replacing the battery in the station wagon right now. He used most of the remaining funds in our club's account to buy the new one but the car should be back up and running very soon. Our bank account is another matter entirely."

They needed relative solitude if he was going to get anywhere with her. "Where's Mart?" Dan glanced around but didn't see any sign of his partner.

"Dad brought him into town to get his car. Then he was going to stop by Di's and thank Mr. Lynch for the new tires. You probably know that Mr. Lynch bought him the new tires for his car. He wouldn't take no for answer." Trixie tapped her pencil against her notebook. "I don't think Mart will be home anytime soon. I imagine the Lynches are going to have to kick him out before he comes back."

Mart would want to spend as much time with Di as he could. Laying the foundation for more, Dan inquired with forced ease, "What about the rest of your family?" He laid his hand on his knees and waited for her answer. Three down, only two more to go.

"I'm not sure what Moms is up to. She's somewhere inside the house." She pointed towards the back door. "I don't hear her in the kitchen anymore. I imagine she's finished cleaning up from dinner and taking a much-needed break. Bobby's upstairs in his room. He has a paper that he has to finish tonight. It's due tomorrow," she explained needlessly.

"Let me guess. He's just starting on it." Dan lifted his eyebrows.

Trixie giggled but he caught that it didn't have the normally effervescent quality to it. "He takes after Mart and I in more ways than we ever realized. It's not just the looks, you know. I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt and say that he had at least a page written but I can't say that for sure." She gave a shake of her head, hoping that Bobby hadn't learned his homework habits from her. If he had, then his remaining school years were going to be torture.

She looked normal. She sounded normal. But he could see the hint of something deeper in her eyes and imagined that Jim had been able to see it, too. There had always been a strong bond between him and Jim since their backgrounds had a lot of similarities to them. She may be able to fool the rest of them but she wouldn't be able to fool Jim or himself. Taking a deep breath, he decided that he didn't have a choice but to prod, even though he knew she would be extremely resistant. She would need to share if she truly wanted to heal. Leaning back, he inspected her closely, not missing a thing. "So, Trix, tell me the truth. How you are really doing?"

"What do you mean?" She eyed him carefully, her body setting up lines of defense, and felt the smile she had kept on her face for most of the day slide away.

"You know what I'm talking about," he chided her gently, reaching forward and tapping her knee lightly. "You are doing well, I can see that, but there's more to it." After an intentionally long pause, he murmured solemnly, "You can't fool me. Tell me, Trix. Tell me all of it."

A cloud of annoyance burst across her face. "I am fine," she muttered defensively. She wished she could get up and stomp away, her favored way of leaving a discussion when it got too intense for her liking, but she was hampered by her sore body. She couldn't even rise up out of the swing without asking for his help, which would ultimately ruin the effect she wanted. Settling for an unpleasant scowl instead, she closed her eyes and tried to will him away. Not surprisingly, it didn't work.

He couldn't help it. He laughed at the expression on her face, making her even more irritated. She was something else, he had to give her that. He needed to show her that she couldn't hide behind a smile with him. There was only one way to start it. "Do you know that Sergeant Molinson made a copy of the tape from the other day and shared it with your family?"

She went stiff, absolutely, positively stiff, and felt her annoyance turn to righteous fury. "What?" she bit out, indignant. No one had told her that. She frowned at her house, embarrassed and upset by what she perceived as her weakness. And they knew it all, which only made her feel worse. There wasn't a hint of a smile on her face anymore. She slammed her hand on the top of her book.

"Mart snuck it out of the house today and let me listen to it during our lunch break," he informed her, watching her reaction closely, and waiting to see how she would respond. "You are one hell of a fighter, Trixie."

She didn't hear truth behind the compliment, she didn't even hear the compliment, too angered to realize that her tale of terror had been broadcasted. She hadn't wanted anyone to ever know about it, not wanting anyone to be tainted with its horror like she had been. She had wanted to protect her family and friends, not bring them into the center of the hellish circle. "What the hell is this?" she bit out, the blue of her eyes coating over with ice. "Does everyone within a five-mile radius know?"

Maybe he shouldn't have brought up the tape, Dan thought with a small hint of regret, grimacing when she swore and shuddering at the icy look in her eyes. He hadn't been aware she could even look like that. But he had needed to let her know that he knew everything already so that she wouldn't have to retell it. "No," he answered, striving for a bit of levity. When she turned her furious gaze back to his, he continued, praying that she would find humor in his answer, "I'm pretty sure that Mr. Lytell hasn't listened to it yet."

It worked. A short laugh burst out of her lips before she could prevent it. She covered her mouth with her hand, her fury dissipating as quickly as it had come over her. "If he had, I'm sure it would have been broadcasted on every local television by now." She despised the tears that suddenly glinted, taking the place of the cool ice.

"I didn't want to embarrass you," he said soothingly, hating the tears as much as she did. "I only wanted you to know that I'm aware of it all." He caught her hand this time and squeezed it, wanting to infuse some of his strength into her. "I only wish I had your courage, Trixie. I mean it."

Her mouth fell open. Trixie cocked her head to the side. Forgetting to be annoyed with him, forgetting that she had wanted to claw his eyes out for bringing up the subject only a few seconds earlier, she inquired hesitatingly, "What do you mean, Dan?"

"You're a fighter, Trix. I'd lay money down on you anytime and always come out the winner. You've got so much courage in you. I don't think I do. You know a little of my history, Trix." Dan never liked looking back into his past. It wasn't pretty and it didn't paint an attractive picture of him as a teenager. Instead, it had the power to make him feel completely inadequate. "If I had responded like you to the bullies around me, I would never have ended up in a gang. I would never have been sucked in. I would never have done a few things that I will always regret."

She felt as stunned as she had felt when Jim had shared a portion of his life with Jonesy with her. Not letting go of his hand, she couldn't keep back the questions. Her vein of curiosity ran strong. She settled for the most important one first. "What…what do you mean, Dan?"

He willingly let her see what his life had been, right before he had moved to Sleepyside and met her and the rest of their friends. "It's like I said. I wasn't strong enough. I certainly wasn't brave enough. Despite the fact that I had good parents who loved me and cared for me, I was blinded by the attention Luke and his gang gave me during the hardest point of my life. It didn't happen overnight. It was more slow and gradual but I let their lifestyle take me over me. They made me believe that it was where I belonged. Before I knew it, I became part of their gang. I let them have power over me."

Trixie heard the thread of regret and something that sounded like self-loathing deep within Dan's voice. Concerned, she leaned forward and held on tighter to his hand. "You don't have to worry about that anymore, Dan." She spoke quickly and fiercely, almost as if she could make him believe it by the force of her words. "You've put that part of your life behind you. No one holds it against you. You need to be proud of what you've made of yourself."

"Just like you need to be proud of how you stood up to Britten." He didn't miss her sharp gasp. He waited until she brought her surprised eyes back to meet his. "It's not that simple, is it, Trix?"

She was beginning to understand what he was trying to tell her, why he was letting her peek into a part of him that she never even suspected existed. Haltingly, almost as if she was afraid to forge the shared connection, she tentatively said, "The nightmares…they seem to be the worst, aren't they?"

"I don't have as many as I used to," Dan answered truthfully, unable to hide the worse from her. "There are still nights when I wake up in a cold sweat but, for the most part, I'm able to sleep well now."

"Last night was the first night I tried to sleep without my pain medication," Trixie shared with him, unaware that she was gripping his hand tightly. "It wasn't the pain that kept me awake. Every time I closed my eyes I saw _him_." His mocking eyes, his twisted smile, his sharp knife at her throat and then the gun…it had all passed before her, taunting her through the dark of the night, making her toss and turn. Exhaustion had finally claimed her but the dreams…she doubted if she would ever be able to truly escape them. It had only been one night. She was already afraid of what the coming night would bring.

He could only imagine. "I'm not going to lie and say that it'll get better because it won't. At least, not until you've dealt with it." He could have told her that she could expect the same type of night tonight but her small groan told him she was already aware of it. "Even then, after you think you've completely put it behind you, there will be times when the memories come back to you."

"Great," she breathed out sardonically, pulling her hand out from under his and brushing back her curls. She deflated against the back of the swing. "Just great. So I can look forward to never sleeping again, then?"

He felt a small grin work its way across his face. "The best thing that will help you is the absolutely one thing you do not want to do."

"That's rather cryptic," she grumbled, disheartened, and picked at the edge of her shirt. "What do you mean by that, Dan?"

"Counseling, Trix," he replied evenly, almost chuckling at her exaggerated shiver of disgust. "You need to go to counseling. It helped me once I opened myself up to it." He took a deep breath, hating to break a confidence but aware that Jim would tell her himself. "It helped Jim, too."

Her head snapped back up, astonishment illuminated on her face. "Jim?"

He shouldn't have been surprised that the mention of the redhead's name was the most successful way to get through to her. "He saw a counselor for at least a year after being adopted by the Wheelers, maybe even longer. I'm not sure of it all. You'll have to ask Jim if you want the specifics on that one." Jim would tell her. He was certain of that. Clearing his throat, he added, "In fact, Mr. Wheeler recommended his counselor to my uncle for me after I moved to Sleepyside."

She let the information sink in, realizing that there was a whole fountain of information that she didn't know about her friends. Jim wasn't the open book she had always assumed him to be. But knowing everything she had learned over the past two days didn't make her feel any different towards him. In fact, it made what she felt much more intense, sharper, and truer. If she had ever wondered if it had been an adolescent crush or a severe case of puppy love, she had her answer now. It wasn't. It was love. Then she looked at Dan. He had always had a darker edge to him but, as she stared into the face of her good friend, she knew that it didn't make a difference, either. He was Dan, as Jim was still Jim, and as she was Trixie. They were Bob-Whites to the core, with the strength that came with it. They hadn't let their horrific experiences brand them for life. She wasn't about to let Britten win, either.

"You're awful quiet, Trixie," he reproached her gently, worried when her silence continued to stretch on. He wasn't used to a quiet Trixie. Normally she was a ball of energy, spurring all of them into action. Rarely was she introspective. Rarer still was she content to sit still.

"You and Jim have both given me a lot to think about," she declared soberly after a minute, her voice whisper-soft but with a force behind it that he found as a good sign.

"Has Jim talked to you about this?" He waited for her answer.

"A little," she mumbled out, feeling twin flags of red appearing in her cheeks. "He mentioned a little to me on the walk back to the road on Saturday night. Then he told me about an incident that had happened to him with his stepfather yesterday. I think he wanted me to know that everything will be all right."

"He also wanted you to know that you have someone to talk to you about it, should you ever need to," Dan surmised correctly. "That's my point, too. We both understand it, more than you know, and we both want to help you."

The shadows in her eyes slowly receded. She wasn't as carefree as she had been a few weeks ago but she wasn't despondent or depressed or even as scared as she had been a few minutes earlier, either. Somewhere in-between was a good place to be, she realized with a start. "It seemed all I could do was thank Jim yesterday," she recalled with a small laugh. "Now I need to say the same to you, Dan." She let the smile tell him but said the words anyway. "Thank you."

He playfully chucked her under the chin. "No problem, Beatrix." Intentionally using her name, the same way Mart would have, he watched the indignation flare across her before she gave in and laughed again.

"You've been spending too much time with Mart," she accused him, letting the intense subject drop.

"Guilty as charged," he shot back, his hands out in front of him. Then he gave her a hand, helping her out of her seat, and understanding that she needed some privacy to acclimate herself to the information she had learned.

She accepted the books he handed her. "I think I'm going to brave the stairs and get ready for bed," Trixie told him, staring at the doorway to the kitchen and thinking that maybe she would be able to get a little more sleep. If she wasn't able to, she knew she could think of Jim and Dan to help her combat the nightmares. Just thinking about her friends would be a tool to help hold them at bay. "Good night, Dan. Maybe I'll see you in the morning when you come and pick up Mart." She gave Dan an impulsive hug before disappearing through the door.

She waited until the sounds of her daughters footsteps couldn't be heard any longer. Then Helen stepped around the corner of the porch, fresh tears glimmering in her eyes, before she rushed forward and enveloped a surprised Dan in a motherly hug. She promptly burst into tears, touched by the way he had been able to get through to her daughter.

Stunned, he held the weeping mother, looking out into the darkening yard and wondered what the hell he should do next. He had never been good with dealing with a crying woman. When it was someone's mother, he was completely lost in the dark and had no clue what to do next. "Mrs. Belden," he mumbled, hoping for some type of a response from her.

"I'm sorry, Dan," she apologized, taking in a series of deep, calming breaths to help her regain her composure. When she was relatively sure she wouldn't make more of a fool of herself than she already had done so, Helen stepped back and ran her hand under her eyes, wiping away the remains of the moisture. "You can't know what that meant to me, Dan."

It was his turn to flush bright red. "Okay," he said, unsure of what he should really say to her.

She smiled at him, a watery smile that thanked him and had him shuffling his feet in embarrassment. "I heard what you said to Trixie. I didn't mean to eavesdrop," she explained hurriedly. "Trixie comes by it very honestly. Her curiosity, I mean. She gets it from me."

He hadn't known that. "You heard, Mrs. Belden?" he inquired.

She reached down and picked up the empty Tupperware container, needing something for her hands to hold onto, and turned it over in her hands. "You handled it beautifully, Dan. Peter and I have been wondering how to bring up the subject of counseling to her after Dr. Ferris recommended it to us. She's always been so proud and strong. We knew she wouldn't want to do it. In fact, we figured we would have to force her into it."

"That wouldn't have helped her at all." His first sessions hadn't gone well at all. He had only been able to make significant gains once he had become a member of the Bob-Whites and had started to believe in himself again. His friends didn't have a clue about how much they had changed him, how much they had done for him. They had given him the motivation he had needed to let him become much more open to the situation, to let him begin to heal.

"We know. Believe me, we know." She sniffled once more and held her hands out. "Well, now we'll be able to mention it to her soon. Maybe tomorrow. I think she'll be much more responsive to it." Tilting her head to the side, exactly as her daughter had done earlier, she added softly, "Thanks to you, Dan."

He wanted to wave off the thanks but it felt good. Former gang-member helping out the ultimate All-American family. If that didn't prove that God had an odd sense of humor, he didn't know what else could. It didn't get much better than that. He coughed lightly and abruptly changed the subject, uncomfortable being in the spotlight. "My uncle wanted me to thank you for the soup. He said it was delicious."

She recognized what he was doing but couldn't keep the appreciation from shining out of her eyes. "I'll be glad to make him more, Dan. Let me know when he wants some more soup."

"I will. Good night, Mrs. Belden." He nodded towards her and then walked down the steps. He didn't whistle. Moving towards his truck, he realized it was going to be one of those long nights for him, too. When he reached his truck, he looked first back towards the farmhouse and then in the direction of the Manor House. He wouldn't be the only sleepless Bob-White, he thought with a sigh. But he would get through it. The sun would shine. It would bring him back into the light, the same way it would bring in Trixie and Jim, too. He fired up the engine and drove away, mentally preparing himself to face his own demons.


	48. Chapter 47

**Into The Light **

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Forty-Seven

Hand poised to knock on the front door of the farmhouse, glancing over her shoulder to say something to Di, Honey was stunned when it was ripped open before she could knock. She whipped her head around to stare at the person who had opened the door. "Br…Brian," she got out, embarrassed to see the handsome, quiet man standing on the threshold, even though it was his house, and she was there to visit his sister. She pressed a hand to her rapidly beating heart, trying to will it to stop, and attempted to regain some kind of composure. She hated the fact that his mere presence somehow managed to turn her brain into a pile of ooey, gooey mush.

He was as stunned as she was, hadn't heard the car pull up and didn't notice that there was another Bob-White standing off to the side, watching the two of them with thinly veiled amusement. "Sorry about that, Honey," he apologized, enjoying the rosy tint to her cheeks that came naturally and had absolutely nothing to do with make-up. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Unaware that she was staring, Honey noted the dark color of his eyes, the slight upward tilt of his lips, and the stubble that he hadn't shaved off. Her fingers itched to feel the texture, to find out if it was as scratchy as she thought it would be. It took a gentle cough from Di to make her remember her friend's presence. She gestured towards her and explained haltingly, "We're…ah…we stopped by to see Trixie."

"Of course," Brian replied, looking at their friend with some surprise. He hadn't noticed her there, hadn't been able to look beyond Honey, and nodded at her. "Hey, Di."

Di did her best stifle a chuckle, predicting that there would be yet another couple pairing off in their midst very soon. Making herself as small as she possibly could, she slid past Brian and entered the charming house. "I'll go find Trix," she told the two, half-expecting not to get a response from either of them. Grinning like the famous Cheshire cat, she wondered how the two of them would act together for prom night. It was going to be an interesting evening. Already aiming in the directions of the stairs, Di asked, "Is she upstairs?"

He had to concentrate on what Di had asked. "No, she's in the den. She's been down there most of the day working on her school work," Brian answered after a moment of silence. "I take it Di is doing much better," he noted after watching their friend travel through the first floor of the house, eagerly making her way towards the den.

Honey's feet seemed rooted to the spot. All she wanted to do was get lost in his darkened gaze. She had one awful minute where she thought she wouldn't be capable of uttering one sensible thing to Brian before she took a series of deep, calming breaths. Giving her head a much-needed shake, she was able to answer his question. "Di is okay. She still gets annoyed when people stare at her face but she hasn't had to leave school early. She's very excited about going to the prom with Mart, too. It's all she's been able to talk about. It's only two days away now, you know."

He knew the amount of time until the prom, still couldn't believe his good fortune that he was able to escort Honey, and that it had come to pass on the day he had lost his internship. He almost had to wonder if fate was trying to tell him that there were more important things besides school and career-oriented goals. Looking Honey over, noticing the soft creamy shirt and the light green Capri pants, he decided she was much more important than any internship ever could be. But he kept his thoughts to himself, not free yet to express them to her. "I'm on my way to the store. Moms needs me to pick up a few things for dinner tonight." It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her if she wanted to join him for the trip when he remembered her true objective for stopping by.

Honey swallowed a sigh, thinking how heavenly it would have been to have gone with him, even on something as mundane as a grocery shopping trip. "That's nice of you, Brian. I didn't get a chance to see Trixie yesterday so I thought I'd stop in today. Obviously, Di wanted to come, too."

He allowed himself a few more seconds to drink her in before he nodded. "I'll see you later, Honey."

She stepped back to allow him room to pass, making no move to enter the house as he walked away with one last smile for her. She admired the back of his form and let her sigh loose. Uncertain how she was going to make it through one more school day and then a whole Saturday before she was able get ready for the prom, she came into the house, nearly forgetting to close the front door. Rolling her eyes at her obtuseness, she reached behind and closed it tight. Unable to wipe the sudden wayward smile off of her face, she practically skipped her way to the den. "Hi, girls!" she called out when she made it into the room.

Trixie looked up from the large, comfortable sofa. Books, notebooks, folders, and Jim's laptop were spread out on the coffee table in front of her, along with an empty can of strawberry pop and a half-eaten bowl of chips. "Honey! I didn't know that you were here, too."

Di perched on the edge of the sofa, being careful not to jostle Trixie, and pressed a soft throw pillow to her chest. "I didn't know if you would make it inside the house or not, Honey, so I didn't tell Trix that you were here." Slashing a violet-eyed and pointed glance at Trixie, she announced dramatically in a loud stage whisper, "She ran into someone tall, dark and handsome at the front door. I let her stay there since she didn't seem capable of coherent speech, let alone physical mobility."

Covering her mouth with her hand, Trixie's eyes brimmed over with unreleased mirth. When she was certain that she had regained control of herself, she said accusingly, "You've been spending way too much time with Mart, Di. You're starting to sound like a carbon copy of him." She was seriously impressed with the words that had rolled easily off of Di's tongue.

Shrugging off the good-natured teasing, knowing that she had more than earned it with her stellar display in the doorway, Honey dropped with a grunt onto the worn chair across from the sofa and searched for something to take the heat off of her. Noticing the papers on the table for the first time, she reached forward and picked up Trixie's assignment list from her trigonometry class, shocked to see that half of the problems had already been completed. "Trixie! I can't believe it. You've already finished a lot of your homework for Mr. Jenkins." Wanting to know how her friend had managed to do the impossible, she asked, "No offense, Trix, but how on earth did you manage to do that?"

"I haven't had much else to do," Trixie explained, almost apologetically. It was out of character for her. She was more likely to wait until the last minute to do any type of homework. The fact that she had been able to finish a good portion of it was a relief. It had served as a positive way for her to spend her energy during her sleepless night. Not wanting to take all of the credit she added, without thinking, "And Jim stopped by first thing this morning, right after he had finished taking care of the horses. He helped me with the trig problems." She realized her mistake immediately and flushed a furious red.

They couldn't let such a golden opportunity slide past them. Honey and Di shared knowing looks before dissolving into a fit of amused giggles, imagining how much their friend had enjoyed spending the morning with the redheaded Bob-White, even if all they had done together was homework. "That explains it. Phew!" Honey exclaimed, brushing a relieved hand over her forehead. "Jim was here to help you. No wonder you got so much work done."

"I'm impressed that you were able to concentrate on your homework," Di chirped in, her voice tinged with unveiled amusement. When Trixie didn't answer, only gifted each of them with a stony glare, she leaned forward and checked another set of homework, letting the subject of Jim drop for the moment. "Let's see, Trix. You even finished your essay for _The Epic of Gilgamesh_. I still have to edit mine." With a frown wrinkling her forehead, she wondered, "How on earth did you get that finished so quickly?"

"Brian helped me out," Trixie answered swiftly, glad for the change in subject. She held up her _Cliff Notes_ and offered it to Di, who took it with a thankful nod, letting her friends off the hook for their teasing, relieved that they hadn't taken it as far as they could have. Both were more than aware of her feelings for Jim and could be unmerciful if the situation arose. "I finished the paper last night, around three in the morning." She caught herself before adding how nice it was to have a laptop and a printer in her bedroom, knowing exactly what their response would be to that. Clearing her throat, she continued, "Brian looked over my work right after breakfast. He gave me a few suggestions and grammar corrections. I fixed them and then he thought that the essay was all right. I'm excited to have that assignment off my rather full plate."

Honey hadn't heard anything past the fact that Trixie had been working on homework at three in the morning. Concerned, she tapped Trixie's knees, bringing her friend's undivided attention her way. Her puzzlement showed on her pretty face. "Why weren't you asleep?" Honey studied Trixie closely, searching beyond the large bruise that had lost its vivid purple and was now turning to an attractive shade of green for the first time, and finally seeing the tired circles under her friend's eyes.

Trixie lifted her shoulders, hoping that would be the end of it. But she knew her friends better than that. Both Honey and Di could be as tenacious as a hungry dog with a bone if they thought something could be wrong with one of their friends. "I decided to make good use of my time, Honey. I was actually able to get a lot of my homework finished last night. Maybe I'm more of a night owl than I thought." Her laugh was cut short. Neither Honey nor Di joined her. Sighing, she paused before softly admitting, averting her gaze from her friends, hating to share what she perceived as a weakness with them, "I haven't been sleeping all that well the past few nights, now that I'm trying not to take my pain medication as much." Unable to bring herself to tell them about her nightmares, she left it at that and prayed that would be enough to satisfy their curiosity.

Silence reigned until Di broke it. "I hear you, Trix," she responded in the most solemn voice either had ever heard her use before. Di covered Trixie's hand with hers, extremely grateful for the touch-up make-up that she used to hide the smudges that clearly told of her recent difficulties with sleep. No one beyond her parents or Mart had called her on it. She had managed to fool everyone else. Emitting a low groan, she hoped that it would get better. It just had to. "I don't have any trouble falling asleep. What's difficult for me is staying asleep. It's the memories of that damn night that keep waking me up." There were times when she felt like Britten was in her room with her. It was eerie and frightening and had the power to overwhelm her until all she could do was stare at the shadows in her room. "I haven't had a good night of sleep since I came home from the hospital," she confessed quietly.

Moving past her bewilderment into a new phase of awareness, Honey frowned, staring at her two friends, finally conscious of the fact that they had experienced something together that hadn't touched her. She brushed aside a small spurt of jealousy, quickly realizing that it would be asinine to want to have the type of connection that two know had. It came out of a shared experience that had been filled with terror and a fight for their very lives. As much as she would like to be more connected with her friends, she realized that wasn't the way she would like it to come about. She was also upset with herself for not noticing that Di was having difficulties and wondered where her famous intuition had gone. She hadn't even noticed that something was amiss with either of her friends and, even worse, had never even contemplated that there could be long-standing issues from their time with Britten. Desperately searching for something to say, she came out with, "What do you need to do about your sleep problems?"

Trixie gritted her teeth before announcing what she was going to do about it, much to her chagrin and to the amazement of the girls around her. Without giving away her discussion with Dan from the night before, holding his shared experiences closely to her chest like the most seasoned of gamblers, she explained haltingly, "Well, I had a long talk with my mother at lunch today. After we talked, she set up an appointment for me to meet with a counselor to discuss everything that happened to me. I have my first meeting next week."

Two shocked pairs of eyes met hers. Di absorbed the information slowly. After the first waves of shock, finding it hard to believe that Trixie Belden, one of the strongest people she had ever had the pleasure of knowing, was going into counseling, she began to see the benefits of it for herself. It could help her. It could really help her. "Maybe I'll talk to my parents about that when I get home," she mumbled slowly and softly, as if she was speaking to herself and had forgotten about their presence. "Counseling may be a good idea for me, too."

Trixie smiled wanly. At least she had managed to help out a friend. "I'm not excited about it, Di, but I have it on good authority that it will help me." Thinking about Dan, Jim, and their successful experiences with counseling made less anxious and better prepared to face it herself. She hadn't asked Jim about it when he was helping her with her homework, even thought she had to consciously stop herself from blurting it out. She was unsure how to bring up such a tender and rather intimate subject. Somehow, she knew that she would discuss it with him sometime in the near future. It was only a matter of time.

Di contemplated the idea further, letting it form and take shape within her mind. If Trixie was willing to see a counselor, then she didn't see why she shouldn't be able to. Decision made, already feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders even before she attended her first session, she pursed her lips together and nodded her head resolutely. "Yes. That's for me, too. I'll do it. If it can help me sleep better and put all of this nastiness behind me, then I'm all for it."

Honey looked from one friend to the other, pleased that they both seemed more relaxed and like their normal selves. She felt the air settle around them, chasing away the darkness that had threatened to envelop them, and then cleared her throat. "I think that's excellent, ladies."

Trixie felt an honest smile settle on her lips, for the first time feeling that she wasn't hiding behind a mask since escaping the entire fiasco of last Saturday night. The blue of her eyes were the clearest they had been since she had come home from the hospital. Releasing a small whoop of excitement, she held up her chemistry assignments, closing the door on the subject. "Believe it or not, but I'm all finished with my chemistry!"

Honey stared at the assignments spread out on the table. Most of them were completed. All Trixie had left to finish were her trig problems and one paper for her Humanities class. "Wow," she exclaimed after her close perusal, impressed with her friend's promptness. "You really are finished. You don't have all that much left to do, do you?"

Putting a hand on her hip, Di pretended to contemplate their friend. Bringing in a little levity, she inquired aloud, "Who are you and what have you done with our Trixie?"

Giggling felt wonderful, extremely therapeutic, and made everything come back to normal. "I only made use of some unexpected free time," she explained on a short laugh, being sure to keep it low and light because of the state of her ribs. Laughter, real deep laughter, still hurt her too much. She avoided it at all costs.

Picking up the laptop, Honey lifted both her eyebrows, wanting to lighten the mood even more. Ignoring Trixie, she addressed Di. "You know, Di, this computer looks awful familiar to me."

Di caught the cue quickly. "Hmm," she murmured, tapping a manicured nail against her chin and staring at the item with the utmost of interest. "Now that you mention it, I think that I've managed to see this computer somewhere before, too." Violet eyes sparkling with mischief, she pretended to remember where she had seen it. "Could it be that I saw it at your house, Honey?"

"You could be right. But, Di, it's not mine!" Honey denied with feigned astonishment, having a hard time keeping the amusement out of her voice and failing miserably. She saw the storm clouds gathering in Trixie's eyes and bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. She was too much fun to tease. It was no wonder that Mart made such a hobby out of it. "Although I do seem to think that its home may be up at the Manor House. Could it be Miss Trask's, I wonder?"

Trixie turned an uncomfortable and unbecoming shade of red that clashed with the ugly green of her bruise. "Honey, Di," she grumbled, one lip curled up sardonically. "You can both stop it. I know that you know exactly who the laptop belongs to."

They sang out together, in perfect harmony, "Jim!"

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wanting to find something to distract them. "He brought it to me on Tuesday," she shared, needing to break the knowing looks that the two were giving her, and hoping to forestall any further teasing by burying herself in her trigonometry textbook.

"He brought it to her on Tuesday," Di repeated nearly verbatim, dissolving into another set of giggles.

Honey gently pried the textbook out of Trixie's hand and closed it with a sharp snap. "And he spent the morning here, helping her with homework. Plus he'll come back tomorrow to help Trixie finish her problems. What a nice, considerate brother I have." Winking at Trixie, she added with a loud, exaggerated sigh, "I can't imagine why he would find it so imperative to visit Crabapple Farm so much."

"And he's going to spend Saturday night with her while the rest of us are at the prom," Di added with a wicked gleam to her eyes. Mart had shared that delightful piece of information with her. "Jim and Trixie, all alone. From what I understand, it was all Jim's idea, too."

Praying for strength, almost incapable of speech due to the ire threatening to choke her, Trixie stared up at the ceiling and wished that she was anywhere else but here. Never all that tolerant of being teased, she was much better at it than she had been a few years earlier. She fought back the indignation and strove for a semblance of control. "What did I ever do to deserve this?"

Honey catapulted herself from her seat and flew the few feet across the room to sit on the other side of Trixie. She swiftly soothed the ruffled feathers. "Don't worry, Trix. We're only teasing you. We don't mean anything by it."

"Hah, hah," she muttered back, still finding the brightly colored hooked rug covering the hardwood floor fascinating. "It's really funny."

Di ignored the sarcasm. Covering her hand with her mouth, she suppressed yet another giggle and agreed, "Yes, it is."

"Let's put it aside for now. There are other, more important things to discuss." Honey sat the laptop in her lap, staring at it furtively, extremely interested in its contents. "What can you tell us about this computer? Have you learned anything interesting about Jim?" Brushing back a loose strand of her hair, she explained, "I mean, he gave you, Trixie Belden, the most curious, inquisitive person that we know, his personal computer. He must have known that you wouldn't be able to resist searching its contents. There's got to be something of significance residing within."

"He told me it was okay to check things out," Trixie said defensively while she pulled at the fringe of a throw pillow. "All he wanted me to do was tell him if he had any new emails. He checked the few he had when he was here earlier."

"Oh my. He gave you permission? Jim gave you permission to look through his computer?" The laughter trilled out of her. She couldn't remember when she had laughed so hard or for so long. It was amazing and made her believe that everything would really become back to the way it was, with the help of her friends and family. Suddenly more interested than she had been before, Di reached across Trixie's lap and tapped the computer. "Tell us what you found out. What deep, dark secrets is James Winthrop Frayne, the II, hiding from us? Enquiring Bob-Whites want to know."

She couldn't figure out how she had gotten herself into such a position, stuck between her two best friends with a laptop in-between them. There was no way out for her, not without suffering more embarrassment. She tried to play it off first. "Nothing, really," Trixie hedged cautiously. "He only has a few websites saved under his favorites. The first one is for NYU so that he can access his student emails. Then he has bookmarked a few Youtube videos and the like, as well as some websites for school, but there's nothing too unexpected or interesting on the computer."

Narrowing her hazel eyes, Honey shook her head, unconvinced. "I'm not buying it." She knew Trixie too well. "You're hiding something from us, Trix." Slapping a hand to her hip, she demanded, "What is it? You don't have much of a choice here. If you don't tell us, I'll only start opening up programs until I find out what Jim has on his laptop."

Bullied into sharing her discoveries by the person she considered to be the kindest, most caring person in the world, Trixie grumbled something incoherently under her breath, something that suspiciously sounded like a curse, and reached forward to open up Jim's email. Working silently under two pairs of fascinated eyes, almost wishing that her friends had decided to bypass her house on their way home from school, she called up the folder that housed Jim's saved emails. "There. Are you happy now?" she asked, irritated, and crossed her arms across her chest. She refused to look at either of them.

Honey and Di ignored her annoyed tone and pose. Both of them leaned across Trixie's lap, swiftly reading the entries with murmured gasps of surprise and delight. "Would you look at that?" Di mumbled rhetorically, looking at Trixie out of the corner of her eyes. "He has saved every single email you ever sent to him, Trixie, from your first email to him when he went to college to your last one, wishing him good luck on his final. That's dedication, if you ask me."

"I didn't," Trixie whispered, her frown darker than it had been before.

"This is lovely!" Honey slipped an arm around Trixie's shoulder, squeezed her hard, and then giggled with glee. "I can't help but notice that he hasn't saved any other emails. I don't know whether I should be offended or not. Yours are the only ones he must have felt were important enough to save."

"We should be offended, Honey," Di assured her jokingly, sneaking in closer for a better peek at the emails. "Especially you. After all, you happen to be his sister."

"But I'm not Trixie." Honey took over and closed out the email account, carefully watching Trixie out of the corner of her eyes. She caught the relieved expulsion of air, as well as the way Trixie kept the laptop in her sights. Immediately knowing there was more, Honey felt another smile tug at her lips. "But that's not all, is it, Trix?"

She huffed out another groan, annoyed that she hadn't been able to fool Honey. There wasn't any use in lying. Honey would only drag it out of her. "You've spent too much time with me. I'll have to remedy that in the near future." She didn't mean it, shared a smile with Honey to take the sting out of her words. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Trixie reluctantly opened up the photo gallery.

They crowded in even closer, one on either side of Trixie, and stared at the thumbnail sketches of his pictures. "Look, Di," Honey pointed out unnecessarily. It hadn't been difficult for the two of them to reach the same conclusion. "I see a picture of all of us in the clubhouse during last Christmas. Then there's a picture of all the Bob-Whites at Mart and Dan's graduation last year. There's even a picture of all of us at the lake."

Di narrowed her eyes, missing nothing that was in the pictures. "But you can't overlook the fact that most of the pictures have one person in it." Trixie's face smiled back at them numerous times. Sometimes she was alone, other times she was with one or more of their friends, and there were even a few of her and Jim together, but neither girl could miss the fact that Trixie seemed to be the star of the show. Other than a few pictures of the Wheeler/Frayne family and two shots each of Jupiter and Patch, there wasn't a picture that didn't have Trixie featured in it.

When Trixie closed out the photo gallery, she slumped against the soft cushions of the sofa, waiting for the onslaught to begin. Between the emails and the photos, they had too much ammunition. There wasn't any way that they would be able to let all of it pass them by, not without teasing her unmercifully first. "Let me hear it," she demanded when neither of her friends said a word and squared her thin shoulders. "I can handle it."

Di turned to her, brushing back a sentimental tear. "I think it's wonderful!" she gushed out, delighted for her friend, and making plans for double dates with her and Mart sometime in the near future. She would have to have been deaf, dumb and blind not to have known Trixie's feelings towards Jim but she hadn't realized how completely he returned them. Bouncing in her seat, she gestured towards the laptop. "If that doesn't prove that Jim has more than 'special' feelings towards you, I don't know what else would!" she declared loyally.

An image from a week ago of Jim sitting in front of Trixie in her room after she had forced Trixie into telling him her suspicions about the stalker, holding her hands and staring at her as if she was the most precious person in the world to him, while she had stared down at the floor and completely missed it, flashed briefly through Honey's mind. His feelings had been revealed on his face, were becoming much clearer than they had ever been before, and they made Honey's heart sigh with a bit of whimsy and envy. So many other incidents from the past two weeks went through her mind, from the way her brother always seemed to need to touch Trixie in some small way to the fact that they spent an extraordinarily large amount of time together. A good amount of that time had been alone, a surprising feat to accomplish in a group of their size. Feeling a knowing smile turn her lips up at the corners, she wondered why it was taking the two of them so long to get together. Deciding not to say anything else, Honey slipped an arm around Trixie's shoulder and gently steered the conversation into another direction. "I'm looking forward to having you back at school, Trix. When will you get clearance from the doctor?"

Trixie stared at Honey gratefully. Never comfortable being in the limelight, especially when it involved Jim, she was glad to let the subject drop. "Tomorrow afternoon. Moms is bringing me in to see Dr. Ferris. I can't imagine he'll tell me I can't go back to school on Tuesday, after Memorial Day. I actually feel pretty good. Sore, of course, but I can deal with that. Believe it or not, I'm ready to go back to school."

"What about work?" Di wondered aloud. She reached into the snack bowl and popped a potato chip into her mouth. "Honey's scheduled to start lifeguarding on Monday, when the pool officially opens up. I'll be working the front desk even with this big ol' bruise on my forehead."

Trixie had talked to her supervisor earlier in the day to bring her up to date. "I'll need to check with Dr. Ferris on that but I have a sneaking suspicion that I won't be allowed to lifeguard. At least, not for awhile. I have to call our supervisor to let her know what the doctor says. On the positive side, I'll be able to work with you, Di, at the front desk, until I'm able to fulfill my duties as a lifeguard. I won't be able to start until next weekend, though." She wasn't looking forward to working the front desk again but she wasn't about to turn down a job. It wouldn't be for the entire summer, only until she could be cleared to work as a lifeguard.

"I'll miss you at the pool." Honey squeezed her hand sympathetically. "It won't be the same without you, Trix."

"So, what are the plans for Saturday?" Needing to get the focus off of herself, something that seemed to be happening too much for her own liking recently, Trixie introduced the subject that was guaranteed to fluster both of her friends. Turnabout was only fair, she thought to herself, giving each friend a deceptively innocent look. "I hear it's a big night for both of you."

Honey suddenly became very interested in the laptop. She closed it carefully and took an inordinate amount of time to lay it on the coffee table, treating it with the utmost of care. She didn't look up until the laptop was placed as perfectly as she could make it. Di couldn't prevent the blush that was working its way across her lovely features. She started stacking the textbooks and notebooks, concentrating very hard, and doing her best to ignore Trixie's question.

Trixie watched both of them work, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and hid her own chuckle. It was fun to turn the tables on them. Absently twirling a curl around her finger, she brought up the subject again. "Did you hear me? Prom night? Honey? Di? What are the plans?"

Honey chewed on her bottom lip, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn't enjoyable having the shoe on the other foot. Trixie was privy to her feelings about Brian, despite her best attempt to keep them hidden. There certainly wasn't any secret about the way Di felt about Mart. Slanting a glance towards Di, she thought that it was good thing to at least have an ally in her corner. Poor Trixie had had to endure their teasing alone. "Mmm…well, let's see. Di's in charge of getting the limo. My father volunteered to buy us our dinner for the night. Then we're going to go to the Country Club, which is sponsoring our prom. After that, it will be time to come home."

When Di only made a non-commital sound, Trixie fought back her grin. "Both Brian and Mart seem to be excited about the night," she remarked, causing both heads to turn towards her in eager amazement. "Since Brian only offered to escort you two days ago, he had a hard time finding a tux. He spent a good two hours on the phone yesterday trying to find a place that wasn't out of them. Luckily, he was finally able to get in touch with Mart and find out where he was getting his tux from. He called up the shop in White Plains and they had a tux in his size." It had been cute to observe her normally calm, sensible brother lose some of his legendary control when he couldn't find the necessary item and showed her plainly how much he cared about Honey.

"That's sweet." Di eyed Trixie carefully, wondering what her friend had in store for her, before blowing out a breath and waving the figurative white flag of surrender. "Trix, you can hold back whatever else you're going to say to us about your brothers, even though we deserve it for teasing you about Jim. I think we could spend our time better. I really believe we may have to come to an agreement," she stated firmly.

Honey was having a hard time getting over the fact that Brian had worked so hard for her. It was sweet, it was touching, and it made her care for him even more. "What do you mean, Di?" she asked curiously.

She gritted her teeth. "I think we have a little problem here. With me dating Mart, you wanting to date Brian, and Trixie and Jim doing the most impressive circling around the opposite sex without ever declaring their feelings for each other that I have ever witnessed, we need to set a serious ground rule. Otherwise, I think we may drive each other insane." Sucking in a deep breath, she exhaled, her words coming out on a serious rush, "We have to keep the guy talk to a strict minimum. There are too many brothers involved in the mix. It's a little too awkward for me."

"I agree," Trixie said emphatically, shuddering from the earlier teasing they had so nicely gifted her with. It hadn't been pleasant. "Let's do our best to not bring it up."

"Too much," Honey couldn't resist adding. She leaned back against the sofa, her eyes dreamy with the thought of her prom night, held a pillow against her chest, and gave a deep sigh. "Things are changing within our little group. We already have one Bob-White couple, with one or maybe two more on the horizon. You can practically feel the change in the air."

"But they are good changes," Di insisted, thinking back to the way that she felt when she was in Mart's arms.

"They are very good changes." Trixie reached out, clasped a hand of each of her friends, and held on tight. "If we are vowing to keep our talk about the guys in our group to a minimum, I think we should also make a conscious effort not to let anything that happens with them affect our relationship."

"Good point." Di held out her free hand to Honey. When she took it, their triangle was complete. Holding on tightly, she declared, "We should promise to always be friends, no matter what our handsome, wonderful, and sometimes idiotic males in our group may do. We can't let the dating relationships, whatever they may be, affect our friendship."

"That's an easy promise to make!" Honey sang out cheerfully. "I second it!"

"Me, too." Trixie studied her friends, seeing the same wistful look in their eyes that she knew was reflected on her face, and knew that they would do their best to keep their friendship intact, even in the face of whatever drama a dating relationship could bring. The kernel of hope that she would become Jim's girlfriend continued to grow, both in strength and desire, until she couldn't help but believe that it would come to pass. It simply had to. She almost believed she would 'die' if it didn't. Her large smile encompassed them both. "I promise."


	49. Chapter 48

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Forty-Eight

Trixie stared at her reflection in the mirror, fighting back a sigh of disappointment and despair. With only the smallest amount of vanity within her, she couldn't help but be discouraged and depressed by what she saw staring back at her. Even worse, there wasn't anything she could do to make it better. She touched her cheek, finding a pea-size amount of gratitude in the fact that it wasn't swollen anymore and had returned to its normal size. It only had a deep and extremely unattractive green bruise with the start of a hideous yellow showing around the edges. Then she turned her face to the side. A few of the scabs from the cuts had come off, revealing the tender, healing pink skin below. Her blue eyes darkened, revealing her frustration. "What a picture," she grumbled lowly, her mouth pulled back in a sarcastic frown.

She looked down at her torso, studying the medical bandage that wrapped around her waist tightly, hiding the patch of bruises from sight. She was moving around much better, was feeling more like her usual self, but she couldn't get past the twinge of pain that always seemed to be lurking beneath her ribs. She was only healing but the pain continued to cut into her, holding her back from resuming any of her regular activities. No strenuous activities of any kind until her doctor gave her the okay. She had to go back to him in two weeks for a follow-up visit. She didn't have much hope about being okayed for activities that she liked to do, such as swimming or horse-riding. "Dr. Ferris told me yesterday that I'll continue to feel the twinge for the next few weeks." She rolled her eyes, bothered with the situation and the fact that she had been reduced to talking to herself. "Lucky me."

Slipping her shirt over her head, she assessed the outcome, her frown deepening. Dressed in faded blue jeans topped off with a loose dark blue cotton T-shirt and a headband that attempted in vain to tame back her curls, she decided that her appearance wasn't going to get any better. She had done as much as she could. Turning away from the mirror in her room, she walked to her bedroom door and opened it.

Mart stared back at her, dressed in his tux but looking rather flustered and flushed and without an ounce of his normal confidence. "Uh, hey, Trix," he mumbled, eyes on the hall floor, and a strip of black dangling from his hand.

Arching an eyebrow, she put a hand on her hip and stared back at him, assessing his nervous state correctly and felt sympathy well up for him. "Are you all right, Mart?"

He was only feeling the most panicky he had ever felt in his entire life. Escorting Diana Lynch to her prom was a dream that had come true for him. The fact that she had asked him to be her date was still hard for him to believe. Almost in direct correlation to the time rapidly dwindling down until he went to meet her at her house, his nerves continued to grow and thrive. He held out the tie to her and grinned sheepishly. His hands wouldn't cooperate. He had absolutely no hope of making the black strip of fabric behave. "I'm having a little trouble with the tie. Do you think you could help me?"

The smile touched her eyes. He looked extremely handsome. Knowing Di would appreciate the sight her brother made in his tux, Trixie motioned for him to come into her room. "Let's see what I can do," she murmured, taking the tie from him. He crouched down so that she could slide the thin black strip around his neck and tuck it under his collar. She pursed her lips together and suggested, "You should probably ask Moms to do this for you, Mart. She has to be more talented at it than I am."

He loved his mother, thought that she was the very best one that had ever inhabited the earth, but he didn't want to ask her to help with his bow-tie. He wasn't sure why but he felt much more comfortable asking his sister. "You're my first choice, Trix," he declared, surprising her even further. "If you can't figure it out then I'll go to her."

She giggled softly, pleased with his decision. "Well, let's see what I can do, Mart." Biting her lip, she concentrated on her task, her fingers more competent than she had expected them to be. Before she knew it she had made what passed for a jaunty bow. Stepping back to admire her handiwork, she nodded, delighted with it. "You know, Mart, it's not that bad. I think it'll pass Di's inspection."

Mart stepped around her. Pressing his hands to the top of her dresser, he leaned forward and studied it in the mirror. "Yeah. You did a pretty good job, Trix." He heard the bathroom door open up, caught a flash of their older brother before he disappeared into his bedroom. "You'll probably get another chance at it in a minute if I don't miss my guess. Somehow I doubt Brian is that good at it, either."

"I have to say that you look terrific, Mart." She smiled at him, imagining Di's reaction when she saw him. In the fancy, black-and-white masculine suit he didn't look like the joking, happy, carefree Mart that she knew and loved. Instead, he looked like a competent, grown-up, handsome young man. Studying him, Trixie realized for the first time that her brother had passed over the threshold of adulthood, with all the pitfalls and promises that being older entitled one to. He was ready for it. She didn't doubt that he wanted Di to travel the new and interesting road with him. "Di's a very lucky lady."

Thrilled with her words, he felt a flush attack his cheeks. "I would say I'm the lucky one," he whispered so softly Trixie almost didn't hear him.

"Don't sell yourself short, Mart." She wagged a finger at him. "We've always had more of a rocky sibling relationship. I may not say it to a lot. In fact, there's a good chance you'll never hear me say it again." Taking a deep breath, she declared truthfully, "I think you are a terrific big brother. I also think that you're something special and that Di is very lucky to have you go with her tonight."

Words of praise were never given easily or often between the two. It wasn't in the normal realm of their relationship. They spent too much time attempting to antagonize or irritate the other. "Thanks, Trix," he got out past the thick knot in his throat, delighted with her words. "That means a lot."

She grinned up at him. "Remember what I said," she warned him, fighting back the urge to chuckle. "I doubt you will ever hear me say that to you again."

He laughed, a good, hearty laugh that helped momentarily chase away the nerves that wanted to settle deep within the pit of his stomach. "Right back atcha, sister dear," he said, copying her earlier wink. Then he cautiously gave her a hug, his touch light and careful, and whispered in her ear, "I love you, Trix."

"Now you're going to make me cry." She blinked furiously, keeping the tears at bay. Hitting him on the shoulder, she answered, "I love you too, Mart."

He moved back, desperately searching for something else to say before he gave into the sentimental tears he felt stinging his own eyes. He picked up a stuffed bear from her dresser and absently tossed it back and forth in his hands. "Do you mind staying home instead of going to the prom tonight?"

Her curls bounced vigorously. "No, not at all." She pointed to her clothes and sent him a half-smile. "I imagine I'll be the most comfortably dressed Bob-White this evening."

He couldn't wait to see what Di had decided to wear for the evening. The only clue she had given him was the color. She had gone against the grain, surprising him and her friends, and had not chosen her signature color for her dress. No purple for her for the night. Instead, she had gone with a deep, dusty rose. He had matched her flowers to the strip of ribbon she had given him. Bringing himself back to the conversation with a jerk, he put in knowingly, barely able to keep the mirth out of his voice, "I imagine Jim will be just as comfortable as you are. He won't be dressed in formal attire, either."

She stood up on her tiptoes and brushed off a piece of lint from his shoulders. "It will be nice to have some company tonight," she replied neutrally, praying that he wouldn't go into it any further. She never responded well to his teasing but when it involved Jim…she didn't want go through that, especially not tonight.

He imagined 'nice' wasn't the best choice of adjective but didn't call her on it, feeling generous, and unwilling to tease his sister. For the moment. He knew the sentiment wouldn't last for too long. "Moms and Dad would have canceled the dinner reservations they had made a month ago for that new restaurant in White Plains tonight if you didn't have someone to stay with you. They are grateful that you have Jim to be your babysitter tonight." He watched her closer, enjoying when her eyes sparked at the mention of a babysitter. "And Bobby will be spending the night with Lynch twins tonight. You two are going to have the whole house to yourself."

It rankled that her parents still believed that she needed a babysitter but she tried not to let it bother her overly much. Jim was a huge reason why. He hadn't presented himself to her as a potential babysitter. Instead, he had willingly asked to spend the evening together before she had been aware that her parents had made plans. With her parents away, Bobby spending the night with the Lynch twins, and her brothers taking her best friends to the prom, it meant that Trixie would be the only Belden home. The fact that they would be alone only made her anticipate the evening more. She may not be getting dressed up in a fancy dress or getting her hair done at a salon like her friends had done, and she was only clad in normal, comfortable, every-day clothes, with her hair brushed and barely tamed, but she wouldn't have it any other way. She was getting to spend the evening with Jim, in her house, without any one else around. It was remarkable. Realizing that Mart was staring at her expectantly, waiting for her to respond, she blurted out, "I think it's good that our parents are getting out tonight. They rarely take time to do something like that."

He lifted his eyebrows, amused, innately understanding why she was happy that their parents were going out. "I believe they're catching a movie after dinner, so they won't be home for a while."

Trixie moved towards the door, ready for a change in conversation, and asked, "When are you heading over to the Lynches?"

"Soon. I get to take Bobby with me," he responded dryly, impressed with how deftly she had changed the subject, and followed her into the hallway. He stayed behind her on the steps, matching his to hers, and not complaining about the slower pace she set. Poised to offer her assistance if she needed it, he followed every step she made with his eyes. His tone didn't tell her of his intense perusal. "Bobby's excited to see Larry and Terry. I think they are planning on spending the night playing the Wii and eating the Lynches out of house and home. He missed Larry a lot this week. As you know, Larry wasn't able to go back to school last week at all and his parents wouldn't let him go to the baseball game the other night."

"I'll bet Larry's rather bored," Trixie inferred correctly. As much as she had wished for time off from school a few weeks earlier, right after Mart had returned home from college, the reality of it hadn't been all that much fun or interesting. She, who was that fond of school at all, found it hard to believe that she had finished all of her homework assignments. Even more astounding, she was ready to go back to school. "I know I have been."

Mart dropped a brotherly arm over her shoulder and led her into the kitchen. "It's almost over for you, Trix. There's no school on Monday because it's Memorial Day. You'll be able to enter the hallowed halls of Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School on Tuesday morning with the rest of the students. I'll bet that after your first or second period class you'll be wishing that you were still home."

She halted in her tracks. "I hate to admit it but you're probably right."

"I know I am." Mart held open the kitchen door and broke his recent resolve not to tease her without a smidgeon of regret. "You won't get the type of service at school that you do here. We, I mean, Jim, brought lunch to your room when you needed it. We…I mean, Jim, lent you his laptop and computer to help you with your schoolwork. We… I mean, Jim, came over and assisted you with your homework. We…I mean, Jim, wants to spend the evening with you while the rest of us are away." His smile was wide and playful. "Did you catch my point, Trix?"

Her eyes had narrowed into thin blue slits of pure annoyance. "You don't have to spell it out for me, Mart."

"I will anyway," he said cheerfully. "I doubt you'll be missing the extra time you had with your friends and family this past week when you're back at school. Admit it, Trixie. You're going to miss Jim."

She wanted to hit him but pushed back the adolescent response. Besides, she couldn't argue with him or deny it. She didn't have a leg to stand on, which only irked her more. He spoke the truth. She was going to miss the extra time she had spent with Jim. He had been a frequent visitor, only missing that one day when Regan had first fallen ill with bronchitis. Ignoring the chortles of amusement spilling out of her brother's mouth, she flounced around the table and pulled out a chair with more force than necessary.

Brian arrived in the kitchen, looking just as dashing as Mart did in his tuxedo. Forgetting her annoyance with Mart, Trixie sat down at the table, staring at her older brothers, amazed by how grown-up they were, and wondered where the time had gone. She recalled how she had once wished that time would stand still and keep all of her friends at the exact age and place. With a small, bittersweet smile, she realized the impossibility of that wish and how much the seven of them would have missed out on if she had been granted it. Growing up wasn't something to fear or worry about. Thinking back to the strength of her feelings for Jim, she bit back a small, whimsical sigh. It could be quite promising, too.

Brian caught the far-away look to her face and wondered what had made it. Stepping into the kitchen, he stared past her and nodded at Mart. "How are you holding up?"

Mart spread his hands out in front of him, his voice as cool as he could make it, "Just fine."

Trixie stared from one brother to the next. Her friends were going to be delighted with them. Then she saw Brian's tie and nodded. He had managed to make it look great on his own, without any help from her. "Hey, Brian," she greeted him.

He smiled and took a seat at the table, hardly able to believe the amount of butterflies that were fluttering around in his stomach. He couldn't imagine that something as simple as attending a high school prom would have had the power to flummox him the way that it had. As he stared down at the table, he came to the startling conclusion that it wasn't the prom. It was his date. Thinking about Honey, imagining how beautiful she was going to look in her dress, he inhaled deeply and felt his cheeks start to burn under the watchful eyes of his sister. Needing to concentrate on something else, he caught the way that Mart was having a difficult time keeping his feet still and he realized he wasn't the only one with a diagnosis of bad nerves. The only cure would be seeing their dates and getting the evening underway. "I see we have a few minutes before we have to head out," he mentioned idly to Mart, drumming his fingers on the top of the kitchen table.

"Hmm-mmm," Mart answered incoherently, at a complete loss for words, and leaned against the pristine kitchen counter. He was finding it difficult to breathe and stared at the clock, willing it to move faster. He wanted to see Di as soon as possible. Moving his gaze to the ceiling, he decided it would be in very bad taste to arrive early to pick his date up. She wouldn't like it, would probably kill him if he tried it. If anything, she would probably prefer him to arrive a few minutes late, to give her extra time to get ready. Sighing, he understood that he had no choice but to wait out the remaining minutes, even if they did move exceedingly slow, as if they had been covered with molasses.

Trixie kept her chuckle to herself, grateful that she didn't have to go through the horrors of the waiting period like her brothers were doing. Picturing both Di and Honey in her mind, she envisioned that they were much more nervous than their dates and were probably whirling around their rooms with the force of twin hurricanes, both powerful and chaotic at the same time. "Where are you going to dinner?" she inquired even though Di and Honey had shared the plans for the evening with her in excruciatingly detail the other day during their visit.

Frowning, Brian looked at Mart. Mart looked back at Brian and shook his head. Then they both shrugged their shoulders, neither knowing the answer. "I'm not sure," Brian finally admitted. He hadn't been able to get over the amazing good fortune that he was escorting Honey. Other than the time he needed to pick her up, he hadn't paid too close attention to the details. "Somehow I didn't think to ask that question. Somewhere, I guess."

Wide-eyed with astonishment that her brother, who normally had everything planned out to the last detail, didn't have a clue about the dinner plans, Trixie turned her sharp-eyed attention to Mart. "You don't know, either?" Her voice was tinged with amusement and incredibility.

He shook his head again, staring at her sheepishly. "Di only told me to get to her house in time so that her parents can take pictures of us. I know she warned me that the picture taking would take a while. Her mother wants a lot of pictures." He wasn't anticipating that part of the evening but there wasn't any way to avoid it. "She's going to make copies for our parents. Then we're supposed to jump in the limo and head over to the Manor House to pick up Honey and Brian, who will probably have spent a good portion of the evening having their pictures taken, too. I never thought to ask where we were going for dinner."

Brian shook his head affirmatively. "That's the way I know it, too."

The back door blew open. Bobby rushed in, having finished his last chore of feeding the chickens and excited about packing for his sleepover, before he stopped dead in his tracks. "Wow!" he exclaimed, looking his brothers up and down with a comical grimace spreading across his face. "Why did you get so dressed up?"

"It's the prom, silly," Trixie retorted, with a twinkle in her blue eyes. She hooked her thumb towards their brothers. "They're supposed to dress like that. Honey and Di aren't expecting anything less."

"Yuck." He rolled his eyes, showing how plainly he felt about it, and shuddered in disgust. "Give me regular clothes any day of the week. There is no way I am ever going to dress like you two." Rushing past Brian, he shouted back down the hallway, "I have to pack my bag for the night. I'll be back down in a few minutes, Mart. Don't leave without me!"

"He's going to jam everything in his bag," Brian noted knowingly. "Everything will be wrinkled and probably won't match."

"That's probably a side effect from all those years he spent under the extremely unwatchable eye of our beloved sister here. He's not the only Belden who prefers wrinkles and clashing clothes," Mart remarked laughingly. Tapping his sister lightly on the shoulder, he chuckled deeply, "I know Trixie is famous for that type of packing, also. I've seen some of the clothes she's taken with her when she has stayed over with Di or Honey."

In the spirit of the evening, Trixie let the playful joke slide off of her. "You get to take Bobby to the Lynches, right?" she asked.

Mart gave a dramatic roll of his eyes and heaved a sigh. "Yes. Unfortunately. It's going to be a blast, I can tell you that." The sarcasm dripped out of his mouth. "I can imagine how Bobby, Larry and Terry are going to react to Di and me. They're probably going to stand behind Di's parents and make faces at us when they're trying to take pictures."

Trixie dissolved into a series of giggles, visualizing it perfectly. It would certainly set an odd tone for the first section of the evening. "That's probably their plan, unless Di's parents have warned them not to do that. Mr. and Mrs. Lynch have a pretty good handle on Larry and Terry. I wouldn't be surprised if they've already nipped that thought in the bud."

Helen strolled in through the doorway, dressed in a conservative light blue dress with matching slip-on shoes. Her hair was pulled back with a small barrette and the tiniest amount of make-up had been artfully applied, enhancing her soft features. Unaware of the appreciative way her daughter was staring at her, she was brought to a halt, her eyes widening as she took in her two sons, looking the most distinguished and charming she had ever seen them to be. She had one fleeting thought of the two of them as youngsters in the kitchen, with a toddler-sized Mart crying over the chocolate chip cookie he had dropped on the floor and a slightly older Brian willingly giving him his own cookie before she resolutely brushed it aside. Moisture gathered briefly in her eyes. She blinked it away, aware that would only make her children uncomfortable and would ruin her date with her husband. Fighting to keep the emotion from clogging her voice, hands on her hips to keep them from trembling or from reaching out to hold onto her children and to never let them go, she announced, proud that her voice didn't shake too much, "Would you look at this? Who are you and what have you done with my sons?"

Trixie watched each brother flush under their mother's observant eye. Suddenly very glad that she didn't have to go through the process of preparing herself for the night, she leaned back in her chair and waited for their response. She wouldn't have to worry about emotional parents or flash-happy cameras. All she had to worry about was not making herself into a fool in front of Jim.

Brian cleared his throat, ignoring his mother's words. "Hi, Moms," he said and walked over to give her a solid hug. He caught the sparkle of tears in her eyes but didn't call attention to them. In an attempt to get her focus off of him and Mart, he asked, "Are you ready for your date with Dad?"

The soft, wistful smile that had won Peter Belden's heart many years ago drifted briefly across her face while she tried to recall the last time she had gone on a 'date' with her husband. Deciding it must have been too long since she couldn't recall it at all, she answered forcefully, "Yes. Your father is upstairs. He's talking with Bobby right now." She had wanted Peter to lay down the law. Bobby was under strict orders to not cause any havoc over at the Lynches, especially during the photo session. If he didn't want to be grounded for the next month, he was going to have to leave the couple alone. "We'll need to leave soon if we want to make our reservation at the restaurant. It's in White Plains."

"You're seeing a movie afterwards, right?" Mart inquired quickly before Helen could bring up the prom.

"We're not certain which one we're going to see. We'll find out when we get to the theater in White Plains." She found Trixie, her brow wrinkled with worry she couldn't suppress. "I wrote down the name and phone number for you. It's on the refrigerator. Call us if you need anything while we're out." Staring into her daughter's eyes, unable to leave without making the offer one last time, she inquired softly, "Are you positive you don't need us to stay home with you, Trixie? We could always postpone our plans. It won't bother your father and I at all."

"Don't worry about it, Moms. I want you and Dad to have a good time tonight." Trixie gave a swift shake of her head. "I'll be fine. I've been okayed to return to school on Tuesday. I think I'll be able to survive a night at home."

Mart fought back the unholy grin that was dying to dance across his lips. He couldn't let another chance pass him by. "It won't be too long before Jim gets here, anyway. She won't be home by herself for that long." About to say something else, the intent to tease shining brightly in his eyes, he was brought to a halt by Brian stomping on his foot. "What was that for?" he wanted to now.

Brian continued on his way to the refrigerator, calmly opening the door and pulling out a bottle of water. "Sorry," he apologized, although his tone was not apologetic in the least. "Didn't see your foot there," he lied without a qualm and sent a brotherly wink towards Trixie, who smiled gratefully back at him.

Helen heard the sounds that could only be her youngest child pounding down the stairs. She saw the time on the clock and nodded. "I think it's time for all of us to go our separate ways for the evening. Is everyone ready?" With one last sweeping glance to make sure that the kitchen was in order, she turned around and made her way to the living room, her children trailing behind her.

Peter came down the stairs last with the digital camera in his hands and eyed his sons in approval. "Your mother wants to get a few shots of you two before we go in our separate directions," he informed Mart and Brian, his tone not allowing for any disagreements.

Trixie found a spot next to Bobby, her hands folded across her chest while laughter danced brightly in her eyes. "Think of it as practice, guys," she suggested helpfully. "I know Honey, Di and their parents very well. I can only imagine the amount of pictures you're going to need to stand for before you can leave for dinner." Mart and Brian uttered a groan in unison but obligingly stood next to the staircase, looks of utter martyrdom on their faces, and only smiled when their father ordered them to.

Bobby giggled next to her as Peter flashed a few pictures, encouraging his sons to smile bigger and brighter with each one, and then had Helen stand in-between them. "I'm never going to do that," he whispered to Trixie, pointing to the tuxedos. "No girl is worth it."

"You may be surprised," Trixie murmured back. "We'll see how you feel when you're a senior in high school and you realize that girls really don't have cooties."

"I know girls don't have cooties," he shot back, affronted. "But it's still not going to happen. Never, ever, Trix." He shivered with feigned horror.

She let her baby brother have his illusions. It would be worth it, with the right date. She would have endured all of the feminine rituals without complaint if she had been able to go to the prom…with the right date. Staring out the window, catching the flash of the camera out of the corner of her eye from time to time, she thought about her evening and how much she was looking forward to it. It wasn't the prom. It was only movies with Jim. Such a simple, easy, friendly thing to do, but she couldn't shake that odd, new, and extremely wonderful feeling that something different had taken place between them. Studying the bright green leaves dancing with the advent of the light, spring breeze, she hoped she could dredge up the courage to talk to Jim about it. But her curiosity and courage only seemed to come in handy when she was searching down the answer to a baffling and intriguing mystery or confronting an angry and potentially dangerous criminal. When it came to an affair of the heart, especially her own, she doubted if she had strength to forge bravely ahead.

"Trixie," Helen called out, shaking her daughter out of her deep reflections. "Trixie? Did you hear me?"

Brought out of her thoughts, she turned and noticed with surprise that they were the only ones remaining in the room. "Has everyone left?"

"No, not yet. They are out in the yard. I wanted to remind you that there are leftovers in the refrigerator for you and Jim. Help yourself." Threading her arm through her daughter's, Helen brought Trixie out of the house and onto the front porch where Peter was waiting for them. "I know it will only be a few minutes before he gets here but I have to ask you one last time. Are you absolutely certain that you don't mind staying here by yourself?"

Trixie resisted the urge to snort. She wasn't as good at stopping herself from rolling her eyes. "Moms, you don't have to worry. I'll be fine. I have Reddy to keep me company until Jim gets here. It won't be that long. If there is a problem, I'll call you on your cell phone. I promise." Softly but with strength, she repeated, "You don't need to worry about me."

"We won't worry about you, Trixie," she spoke, almost convincingly, and then gave a long-suffering sigh. It would be a long time before she would be comfortable with letting her daughter out of her sight. It seemed to be a cross that she would need to bear for an exceedingly long time to come. Looking ahead, she wondered how she was going to handle letting Trixie live on her own in New York City in the fall. At least she would be rooming with Di and Honey and the rest of the Bob-Whites wouldn't be that far away. Biting back her own worries, she hugged her daughter hard. "Have a good night."

Her father repeated the wish and gave her the same, warm hug. Then her parents walked down the steps and towards her father's sedan. She stood on the porch, waving to her departing family, and watched the mass exodus of cars back up and drive down the driveway, with all occupants eager to start their evening. Her parents were first, on their way to a restaurant in White Plains, with her mother only glancing back at Trixie one time. Then Mart and Bobby followed in his car. Last was Brian, in her mother's van. Wrapping her hand around the porch post, she stood for a long minute, staring at the empty parking places, hardly daring to believe that she had been left alone in her house, even if it was only for a half hour or so until Jim arrived for their movie night. It made her feel the most independent she had been in an extremely long time. A large smile adorning her face, she glanced towards the path that led up to the Manor House. As her mother had said, it wouldn't be too long before Jim came. Thinking about the astonishing and exciting way that she was going to spend her prom night, she entered the house, closing the front door behind her with a soft click.


	50. Chapter 49

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Forty-Nine

Jamming the last of his DVDs into his backpack, Jim zipped it closed and sighed after staring at his watch for the umpteenth time in the last twenty minutes. It didn't make the time go any faster. In fact, if he didn't know any better, he almost believed that the digital minutes were moving backwards instead of forward, adding more minutes to the ones he had already suffered through. Rolling his eyes, frustrated with himself, he wondered if he could get any lamer or more desperate. But he couldn't deny the fact that he didn't just want to see Trixie. He needed to see her. He pushed aside the navy blue curtains on his window and glanced in the direction of the hollow where her house rested. Would she be alone? Had her family already left? Well aware that they were going to be the only two in residence at the farmhouse for the evening, more eager for that than he cared to admit, he decided that he couldn't wait a second longer. He shouldered his backpack and opened his door, twin feelings of anticipation and nervousness assaulting him.

Stepping into the hall, he was brought up short by the lovely young lady nervously pacing in her room across the hall. A small breath of air whooshed out before he could stop it. Amazed by what he saw, temporarily forgetting the need to get to Crabapple Farm, he pushed open the rest of her bedroom door and called out loudly, breaking into her pacing, "Honey?"

She whirled around gracefully on her high heels, her eyes large and wide, and a nervous laugh trilling out of her slack mouth. She pressed a hand to her rapidly beating heart, nearly scared out of her wits by his entrance into her room. She hadn't heard him. Instead, she had been too caught up in her preparations for the upcoming evening. "Jim," she responded somewhat stupidly and walked towards him, wringing her hands together in agitation. "I didn't hear you come in."

He held out his hands and took hers within his, surprised to feel them trembling. She was tense. Nodding to himself, he decided that he would attempt to alleviate some of her nerves, if at all possible. "Well, let's get a good look at you, Honey," he mumbled, thinking that Brian was going to be extremely pleased with his date. It would be like a mixture of pure heaven and absolute hell for his best friend. Jim almost felt sorry for him. Almost. He would have, if it wasn't for the fact that he knew he would be experiencing the same feelings all evening long himself.

Honey felt a rosy blush spread across her face, accentuating the light make-up she had already applied and making her look ever prettier. The ivory dress set off the beginning of her summer tan. It was held in place by a trio of thin spaghetti straps on each shoulder, and was very modest in the front, not allowing for even a hint of cleavage, but dipped lower in the back. The skirt hit just above her well-toned calves. It was long and flowed gently with each movement that she took, almost as if it was made out of water. Crystals were interspersed throughout the ivory material, catching the light and making the dress sparkle and shine in an impossibly magical way. Matching ivory heels, a thin gold necklace, and tasteful gold hoops that dangled from her ears finished off the outfit. She smoothed a hand over her honey-colored hair, being careful not to muss up the elegant French twist that was held neatly in place by pins topped with sparkling crystals, and blew out a small breath, wishing that she could dispel her nerves as easily. "You haven't said anything, Jim. Tell me. What do you think?" she asked after Jim didn't respond.

It wasn't hard. He spoke the truth. "You are beautiful," he replied solemnly. In her ivory dress and with her hair pulled up, she didn't resemble the high school girl he knew anymore. With her aristocratic good looks and that sweet, graceful quality that shone straight out from her heart, she looked like she could have graced the cover of a multitude of fashion magazines instead of merely getting ready for a special event in high school. She was all grown up. Even though he had only been her brother for a short amount of time, he couldn't help but be proud of her, as well as feel a little sad that she wasn't the young girl he had first met, that fateful July morning so many years earlier. He could only imagine how their parents were going to feel when they saw her for the first time and watched her walk down the staircase in a few minutes. She was going to tear their hearts out. Clearing his throat, he declared, "I think Brian's one hell of a lucky guy."

The blush worsened but only made her more attractive. "He's not a real date, Jim. You know that," she admonished him gently. Not that she was complaining. She was beyond excited that Brian Belden was her escort, even if he only became her date by default, but she was going into the evening with her eyes wide open and without any illusions on her part. Brian was her friend, her good friend. It ran like a litany through her mind, almost taunting her with the veracity of the words and going completely against the grain of what she wanted him to be to her. "He's being a good friend. He only volunteered to take me to the prom out of pity. You know that. Nothing else, Jim."

He knew no such thing but it would be up to Brian to chase away that delusion of hers, not him. "Whatever the reason, he is going to be very pleased," he said neutrally in deference to their friend. He gallantly offered her his arm and changed the subject, "Can I escort you down the hall, Miss Wheeler? There are many people who are waiting to see you."

Honey covered her mouth, attempting to remember all that she needed for the night. "In a minute. In a minute," she mumbled, her eyebrows drawn together. Then it came to her. In direct contrast to the elegance of her attire, she scurried over to her nightstand and triumphantly picked up her purse, holding it aloft like it was a prized flag. "I need this, Jim! Oh, and I also need my cell phone. What would I do without that? Now, let's see. Where could it be?" A small frown wrinkling her forehead, she searched through her sparkly purse, grumbling to herself, but couldn't find her cell within its contents.

Grinning at her antics, Jim sauntered over to her dresser and picked. Unable to hide his amusement, he announced, laughter dancing in his voice, "Here it is, Honey."

She smiled gratefully and took it from him, refusing to be embarrassed. Glancing down, she saw that she had a new text. "Oh, look!" she exclaimed, reading it quickly, and feeling her heart rate start to accelerate. "It's from Di! She just sent it to me, about two minutes ago. She says that Mart just arrived at her house so that means…"

"Brian should be here in any minute," Jim completed for her, hiding a chuckle at the starry-eyed look on her face. She didn't have the best poker-face in the world. Offering her his arm again, he questioned, "Do you want to make a grand entrance after Brian gets here?"

"Oh, no! No, no!" Honey denied strongly, shaking her head. "I couldn't do that. That's not me at all. I'd rather be downstairs waiting. Then I won't have to worry about tripping and falling down the stairs." She giggled nervously. "Wouldn't that be awful? There I would be, all dressed up in my prom night finery, sprawled at the bottom of the staircase. And there are an awful lot of stairs to go down, you know." Unaware that she had lapsed into her trademark rambling speech and that Jim was once again inwardly laughing at her, she touched the corsage Brian had thoughtfully supplied her with and felt immediately more serene. The corsage adorned her wrist, her choice, because she hadn't had the heart to poke a hole into the gentle fabric of her dress. A trio of lovely white roses, trimmed with green leaves and baby's breath, peeped up at her, tied together with a gold ribbon. "Yes. I will go down now," she finished decidedly.

Chuckling, he started forward, keeping a leisurely pace, with her arm tucked snugly under his. "I'll bet you anything that Mother and Dad have been waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you for the past hour. They'll be down there, ready to snap a ton of pictures of you and Brian."

"That would be a fool's bet. I'm not going to take that one. I'm already prepared to smile until my lips fall off my face," Honey shared, keeping her steps slow and deliberate lest she should fall. The hallway seemed to have tripled in size. She couldn't remember the last time it had taken her so long to reach the stairs. When they finally made it to the staircase, she stopped, earning herself a concerned look from Jim, and took a series of deep, calming breaths before they began their descent, one hand tucked under her brother's arm and the other lightly trailing down the glossy railing.

As expected, Matthew and Madeleine Wheeler were waiting at the bottom of the staircase, standing on the tastefully expensive carpet that decorated the foyer, with twin expressions of awe and pride on their face while they watched their children coming towards them. Gasping, almost forgetting what she had in her hand, Madeleine jerked up the camera at her side and started flashing away, hoping to catch as many moments from the night as she could.

His green eyes had gone soft, an expression many of his business partners wouldn't believe he was capable of. Matthew couldn't take them off of his daughter, wondering to himself where the time had gone. He couldn't comprehend that the lovely young lady coming towards them was his Honey. "When did she grow up?" he murmured quietly to his wife, giving her a supporting arm around her waist.

Tears were sparkling like diamonds in her soft hazel eyes. "Under our very noses, Matthew," she whispered back, blinking them away, unwilling to let anything mar her excitement for the evening. She took another picture, earning a chuckle from Jim and a small smile from their daughter. With the two halfway to the bottom of the staircase, she hurriedly added, "And she's getting to go to her prom with Brian Belden. You know that was her dream, Matthew, whether she ever admitted it to us or not." Madeleine couldn't have been more pleased with the change in dates.

"Humph," Matthew got out, unsure how he felt about that. He certainly liked and respected the young man, couldn't have asked for a better escort for his daughter, but he had a sneaky suspicion that the second the doctor-to-be caught a glimpse of his little girl, the deal would be sealed, if it hadn't been already. A man of his word, Brian would wait out his sentence with as much patience as possible, as surely as their own son was waiting out his, but he speculated that there was going to more to celebrate in twenty-five days besides a high school graduation between the youngsters in their collective families.

Madeleine elbowed him gently in the stomach, never having been a fan of the limit both fathers had insisted on setting for their eldest sons although she couldn't have argued against the wisdom of it. As much as she hated to admit it, there was a huge difference between fifteen and eighteen. But, if it had been up to her, she would have let Jim and Brian off the hook a year ago. Helen had been supportive of her idea but not Matthew and Peter. Both had proven to be extremely stubborn, much more than she had expected them to be, and much to her and Helen's combined chagrin. Neither had been willing to give in. They still weren't willing, even with the frightening events of the past few weeks, and how well all of the young people had survived and thrived through it all. "Take the remaining time you have to accept it," she advised him softly. "If you're having trouble with it, I'm certain that you could call Peter and commiserate with him."

That was the best idea he had heard all day. Momentarily letting it go, knowing he had all the time in the world to dwell on it and that he had a good friend who could sympathize with him, he opened his arms to his daughter and gave her the longest embrace that he could. "You are amazing," he told her, stepping back to get another look. He cupped her face. "You look exactly the way your mother did, the first time I saw her."

Madeleine blushed, remembering the occasion well, and cut in front of Matthew, demanding her own hug. Unable to come up with anything profound, she managed to get out past the lump of emotion in her throat, "I love you, Honey."

Honey dabbed at her tears, wondering why she was so emotional, and laid her head on her mother's shoulder. She fleetingly wondered if Di was having the same poignant experience. It was the first thing she was going to ask Di when she got the chance. "I love you, too, Mother."

"Notice she forgot to say that to us," Matthew said in a loud stage whisper to Jim, placing a solid hand onto his son's shoulder.

Grinning, Jim shot back, "I thought I was the only one who caught on to that."

"I heard that." Honey reached over and tapped her brother's arm, grateful for the teasing that helped to chase away the odd emotional roller-coaster she seemed to be riding on with no hope of getting off it. Her giggle was a mix of amusement, happiness, and a twinge of hysteria. Slashing a smile at them, she added, "I love both of you, too. But you already know that."

Madeleine grabbed the camera. "I need to get a picture of the two of you," she announced suddenly.

Jim stared down at his clothes and arched an eyebrow. "I'm a little underdressed," he said dryly, pointing to his jeans and his dark green shirt.

Honey threaded her arm through his and dragged him towards the staircase. "Hey, I'm more than willing to share the spotlight with you, Jim." She positioned herself next to him and pasted a bright, vibrant smile on her lips, thankful that she had talked her mother out of hiring a professional photographer for the event.

Madeleine held up the camera, snapped the picture and then frowned at the digital result displayed on the screen. "How could it be so fuzzy?" she wondered aloud, in absolute amazement, not noticing that she had also managed to cut off Jim's head.

His wife was a notoriously bad picture-taker. Matthew took the camera back from her, one of the most high-tech and expensive cameras out there and which was supposed to be unable to take fuzzy and unclear pictures, and studied the result. He deleted it since it was useless and then scrolled through the pictures of Honey and Jim descending the staircase. He had to stifle a laugh for his wife's sake. The results were terrible and proved exactly why she had wanted to hire a professional. "I'll handle the rest of the pictures," he told Madeleine easily and with only a hint of laughter to his voice before he directed Honey and Jim again. He flashed a few of Honey and Jim together, with much better results than his wife. Madeleine stared over his shoulder, pleased with the digital displays.

Then there was the discrete ring of the doorbell, cutting through the comfort of the family scene in the foyer. An immediate air of expectation and anticipation settled over them. Everyone turned to look at it, knowing exactly who was on the other side. Honey took a deep breath that was meant to help calm her but only increased her anxiety, while her heart began beating out a wild tattoo. She pressed a hand over it, afraid that it may pound out of her chest. With a combination of apprehension and a rather delightful amount of fear, she watched her brother walk towards the door. It seemed like time stood still while she waited for Jim to open the wide front door. She didn't move, couldn't move, and was relatively sure that she had forgotten how to breathe, let alone think. Finally, Jim turned the handle and threw back the door. He said something to Brian that made him smile back at her brother but it didn't register past the pounding in ears. Then she felt her heart drop to the floor. It simply fell. There was nothing she could do about it. If she had only felt the stirrings of love for him before, now she knew what the emotion truly felt miraculous like. What a lovely, amazing, and absolutely scary thing, she thought to herself, hoping that the truth of it wasn't reflecting on her face for all to see. It was astonishing to actually be in love with her prom date. It had to add something extra to the evening, something pure and magical, and something that she would never be able to forget, even if he didn't reciprocate her feelings.

Brian was caught in the same type of spell. He knew Jim said something to him, could only hope that he had responded appropriately, and put a smile on his face that would cover for any blunder he had potentially made. He was almost certain that he replied before the nerves that had claimed him rose to a fever pitch. But the second he saw Honey, he felt instantly calmed. His feet may have been knocked out from under him and his stomach felt like he had been on the receiving end of a heavyweight punch but the nerves had suddenly dissipated, leaving only her in their wake. She was a vision, beyond anything he had ever imagined, and he suddenly felt that one Michael Hartman had to be his new best friend. He was going to have to thank him. Without that idiot backing out on her at the last minute, he would never have been able to step into his shoes. Appreciative of the fact that his voice sounded relatively normal and didn't break when he spoke, he started towards her and said, "Hello, Honey."

"Hello, Brian." Honey took the hand he offered her, a tiny smile gracing her lips. A little embarrassed with her parents and brother closely watching them, unaware of the knowing smiles and pointed looks being passed between the three, she didn't tell him how handsome she found him to be, hoping for a time when they were a little more private, and wondering frantically how she was going to make it through the evening without making a complete and utter fool of herself. Standing in front of her was the man of her dreams.

Madeleine guessed her daughter's feelings and swiftly stepped in, pointing to the camera in Matthew's hands. "It's time for pictures!" she declared happily, earning a chuckle from her husband and breaking the spell tactfully. "You don't have to worry about me ruining the pictures. Matthew has already volunteered to be our photographer for the night. We'll start out here and then move to the garden. There are some lovely places I want to get pictures of the two of you."

Even while he chuckled and put the camera to his eyes, he couldn't help but feel that he was looking through something more than a mere, ordinary camera lens. It felt like he was getting a glimpse into the future, roughly five years down the line. It wasn't the prom he was taking pictures of anymore. Instead, it was his daughter's wedding. Noting the proud way that Brian carried himself in his black tux, as well as the magnificent picture his daughter made in her ivory grown, it wasn't hard for him to make the correlation between prom night and wedding day. They were both happy and at ease with each other, a flawless match that he couldn't and definitely shouldn't deny, and he felt the uncomfortable sting of tears in his eyes. Even their clothes foretold of the future event. It would happen. He could see it clear as day and felt his own heart crack a little, already experiencing the loss of his little girl to someone else. "Smile, everyone," he ordered, his voice huskier than normal and earning a worried look from his wife.

Jim nodded, watching the proceedings masterminded by his parents, before he casually slipped out of the room without a word of farewell. His parents were too caught up in getting the perfect pictures while Honey and Brian were too caught up in each other, hardly unable to take their eyes off of each other. He closed the door behind him quietly behind him, aware that his parents wanted a montage of pictures, both inside the house and outside of it, and felt a stirring of pity for his sister and her date. The picture-taking frenzy would only continue once Di and Mart arrived with the limo, one of the reasons why his parents had been more than willing to allow the Lynches to supply it. They had been crafty, knowing that they would be the only set of parents allowed to have the opportunity to photograph both couples. Then he forgot about his friends and their evening and pounded down the steps of the front porch, eager to begin his night with the lady of his choice, completely ignorant of the other Bob-White appearing on the premises.

Having parked his truck next to the Belden van, Dan strolled across the parking lot, a wicked grin flashing across his lips when he noticed Jim leaving the Manor House. Unable to pass up the opportunity, absolutely delighted with the fact that Jim Frayne had come into his view, he called out loudly, "Hey, Jim!" Laughing inwardly at the sudden tautness that appeared on his friend's frame, telling him plainly that Jim didn't want to be interrupted, he ran the few feet to catch up to him, all the while knowing that he was the last person Jim wanted to see, but he couldn't help himself. Teasing Jim was turning into one of his favorite pastimes.

Jim halted in his steps, hands on his hips, and stared up at the blue sky, wondering what he had in a former life to make him endure yet another round of Dan's teasing. He swallowed a big, disappointed groan and turned to face his friend, who was yet another roadblock in his quest to get down to Crabapple Farm, and couldn't' find it within him to dredge up a smile. Daniel Mangan was most unpleasant roadblock of the evening. He wouldn't let him get away unscathed. With the type of luck he was having, he doubted he would be able to get to see Trixie until tomorrow morning. "Dan," he ground out, his voice deceptively calm, even and coated with forced friendliness. When Dan only grinned back at him, he kicked a stone and was forced to ask when the silence stretched on between them, although he didn't particularly care to know the answer, "Are you here to visit Regan?"

Dan's smile grew even wider with the hopeful twinge to Jim's voice. "That's the plan," he answered cheerfully, tossing back his longer black hair and holding up the paper bag in his hand. "I just pulled up. I brought dinner for Uncle Bill, courtesy of Mr. Maypenny, as well as a few movies for us to choose from." Watching the sparks of impatience begin to flare in the emerald green eyes, Dan prepared to enjoy himself.

"He must be feeling better," Jim remarked inanely, his feet itching to take him down the extremely well-worn path, and irritation painted vibrantly across his face.

"That he is," Dan agreed, rocking back on his heels, barely resisting the urge to rub his hands together with glee. "I see that Brian has made it to the house. Was Honey happy to see him?"

"What do you think?" Jim replied curtly, uncaring that his response bordered on rudeness.

Dan let it roll off of him and continued, "She was ecstatic, of course. They'll make a lovely couple for the prom. I imagine Di and Mart will be by shortly?" Jim's short nod was his only answer. Dan figured he was lucky to get that. "It's all Mart's been able to talk about during the past few days. I finally had to tell Mart that if he wanted me to talk with him, he had to think of another topic. I didn't want to hear anymore about their plans for the prom." When his friend didn't answer again, Dan forced his hand. Pointing at Jim's backpack, he inquired innocently, "What's in the bag?"

Jim prayed for patience, which seemed to be an impossible feat when Dan had that amused glint to his dark eyes, and bit out, "Don't play innocent, Dan. You know what's in my backpack. You already know what my plans are for the night."

Dan slapped a hand to his forehead in feigned amazement, ignoring his friend's sarcastic reply, and the frustration that was rolling off of him in nearly tangible waves. "That's right! You're heading down to Crabapple Farm. I almost forgot. You're watching movies with Trixie tonight since she wasn't able to go the prom. Good for you. It's so nice and kind of you to help out a friend. How could I have forgotten that?"

He couldn't prevent the red flush from spreading its way across his freckled face and ignored his comment about helping out a 'friend'. "You didn't forget, Dan," he informed him, annoyed.

Dan answered smoothly, "Can't fool you." He laughed unrepentantly, watching his friend squirm with thinly veiled amusement. "You had such a great idea that Uncle Bill and I decided to copy you." He stopped talking, forcing Jim to respond again.

Jim really wanted to wipe the grin off of his friend's face but he couldn't justify the urge to punch, seriously doubting if Trixie or any of their friends would understand the extreme provocation he was being put under. "Enjoy your dinner," he stated, although the look he slashed at Dan didn't promise 'enjoyment' at all.

Dan's lips curled up, overlooking the clear dismissal with his trademark easy smile. He slid an arm around Jim's shoulder that was quickly shrugged off. "As I said earlier, I finally got Mart to talk about something besides Di and the prom. He talked to me about you, Trixie and the rest of the Beldens."

He was going to have to thank Mart. Really, he was. "I'm delighted Mart was able to come up with something else to talk about."

"It was the best thing to do for his health, you understand," Dan said.

"Oh, I completely understand what you mean." He stared down at his fisted hand and glanced back at Dan's chin. "Believe me. I do."

Dan couldn't have been more pleased and chuckled again. He knew what Jim wanted to do. "I understand from Mart that you'll have the whole house to yourselves. Each and every other Belden is partaking in an exhilarating and fascinating endeavor and will not be in residence for the entire evening. Those are Mart's exact words, not mine, you know," he added in an aside, in case Jim hadn't figured that out. "We all know Mart and his love of big words. I generally prefer words of one or two syllables myself."

Jim gave up. Short of turning his back on his friend which would only be futile because he knew that Dan would follow him or sending him sprawling on the ground which was only momentarily appealing and would leave him feeling extremely guilty in the end, he let out a deep sigh. "You're not going to let this be easy for me, are you?" He lifted a single eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the answer.

"Nope," Dan replied, his black eyes twinkling with merriment. "You know me, too. I've got to find some type of enjoyment in all of the romantic goings-on that are happening around our neck of the woods right now. If Brian or Mart were standing in front of me, I wouldn't let them off the hook, either. Really, it's nothing personal. You happen to be the most convenient target right now." Leaning in closely, as if he was preparing to share a deep, dark secret, he informed him lowly, "I am an equal opportunity teaser, you understand."

"That makes me feel so much better," Jim responded wryly with a roll of his eyes.

Dan doubted his grin could get any wider and he copied Jim's pose. "In the spirit of our discussion, I'll even offer to stop by the farmhouse in awhile and see how things are going between the two of you. You never know. Either you or Trixie could get bored with the movies or may be in need of an extra person."

"I may just have to kill you if you do that," Jim answered, his voice as dry as toast, and a hint of the truth to that in his emerald eyes.

Absolutely delighted with Jim's response, not expecting anything less, Dan let out a deep, throaty laugh that filled the air around them and sent the birds nesting in the nearby trees away in a cloud of flapping, annoying twitters. Clapping his friend on the shoulder, Dan gave in as gracefully as he could. "All right, all right, Frayne. You win. I willingly give up this time. I'm throwing in the towel. Have a good night." Then he dropped his hand and started to walk away. Winking at him over his shoulder, he advised playfully, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Then he sauntered towards the stairs to his uncle's apartment, with only his whistle following him, and curious about what Jim would do if he actually attempted to stop in at the Belden homestead. Glancing over his shoulder, seeing the way Jim's body was only starting to relax after their conversation, he decided he didn't want to tempt it. He rather liked his face the way it looked.

Unsure whether to be amused or irritated, Jim abruptly turned on his heels and started down the path, thinking about the many ways he would like to torture one Daniel Mangan, should the situation ever present itself. By the time he reached the clubhouse, the male member of their club who was fast becoming his most annoying friend was the furthest thing from his mind. Instead, he was thinking about soft blonde curls, clear blue eyes, and one of the loveliest smiles he had ever seen. Whistling to himself, unconsciously copying the same tune Dan had recently used, he hurried down the path, setting a record pace. His feet moved swiftly of their own accord while he thought about Trixie. The scenery flew by, unnoticed and uncaring. It was with a great deal of surprise when he found himself at the base of the steps on the back porch of the quiet farmhouse. Taking a deep breath, understanding how Honey and Brian had felt a few minutes earlier, thankful that he didn't have an audience, he took the steps two at a time until the back door was in front of him. He caught the flash of motion through the curtains. She was inside, standing by the kitchen table, most likely setting the table spots for their dinner. Staring at her, willing her to look around, he reached up and lifted his hand to knock.


	51. Chapter 50

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Fifty

Trixie jumped when she heard the knock on the door. Laying the silverware down in a jumble, she turned towards the door, grimacing at the pain when she forgot about her injury and moved too quickly. Biting back a groan, she smoothed out the frown on her face, not wanting it to be the first thing Jim saw, and walked over toward the back door, her pace deliberate and cautious. Her pain forgotten, she didn't need to force the wide smile on her face when she opened the door, her blue eyes glinting with delight. "Jim!" she greeted him happily. "You're here!" The time alone in the house had dragged on endlessly.

He had seen the look of pain on her face but didn't call any attention to it, respecting her need for privacy and impressed with the way she had bounced back from it. "Trixie," he responded evenly, stepping over the threshold and into her home, standing as close to her as he could get without touching her. It was a test because he wanted to see how she would react. He was relieved when she held her ground, with only an attractive blush blooming across her face. Then he glanced around the comfortable country kitchen, surprised by how quiet and subdued it was. Normally the room was bustling with activity and filled to overflowing with both Beldens and non-Beldens. It was strange for it to be so still and quiet, but, as his eyes slid back to Trixie, he realized how grateful he was for it.

She resisted the urge to shuffle her feet. It took an effort but she made herself stand perfectly still and to appear at ease, although she found his nearness very disconcerting. The new, fluttery feeling was back, taking up permanent residence in her stomach. She pressed a hand to it to hopefully quell the sensation. It didn't work, not that she had expected it to. "I know," she said, understanding him completely. She found it odd, too. "It's hard to remember the last time my house was this quiet."

"It rarely happens, doesn't it?" He dropped his backpack on the floor and headed toward the table, inspecting the table setting. Seeing that the silverware was in an untidy heap, he started placing each item on the correct spot.

"It's the curse of being a Belden," she remarked with a roll of her eyes. She whirled around and opened a cabinet, pulling out two glasses and set them on the kitchen counter with a quiet snap. "So, what do you want for dinner? It's leftovers, I'm afraid. Moms left a few choices for us to pick from. I'll see what options we have." Opening the refrigerator door, she peered inside and started rummaging through the overly stuffed appliance.

"What do you have?" Having finished setting the table, he sidled up next to her, with the barest amount of space between, and looked into the refrigerator with her, his face only inches away from hers.

It took her a minute to answer. He was so close to her. She could feel his warm breath on her neck. "Hmmm," she mumbled out incoherently, frustrated with herself. She tried again, not wanting to bore Jim and make him flee from the house due to her less-than-stellar conversational skills. She couldn't tell him that his nearness seemed to be affecting her ability to think, as well as to speak. Clearing her throat, she managed a two-word sentence and mentally patted herself on the back. "Let's see." She reached inside and pulled out a container, insanely excited when she recognized the contents. "This is Moms's homemade macaroni and cheese."

He took the container from her and put it on the kitchen counter. "That sounds promising. What else do you have?" Experimenting again, he moved the tiniest bit closer to her, their sides touching, and bit down a knowing smile.

He was going to drive her crazy. It was as clear as day. They were going to need expressionless men dressed in little white suits to come and take her away. Her equilibrium was shot. "Umm." Trixie was back to mumbling and had to shake her head to clear it. Thankful to have something else to focus on, she grabbed another container. "Salad!" she called out triumphantly and handed it to him. "And this is left-over chicken from last night." She straightened and moved away from the refrigerator, expecting him to have stepped away but he hadn't. Instead, it was his turn to hold his ground. She bumped right into his solid chest. "Oh! I'm sorry."

He reached out to steady her, his hands resting on her shoulders. With a grin, he kept them there longer than necessary, massaging the area until he carefully extracted the chicken from her before it fell to the floor from her suddenly boneless grip. "No problem, Trix," he said huskily.

She willingly stood next to him, one of his hands still on her shoulder, and become hypnotized by his deep emerald gaze. She had no idea how long she stood there, with nothing between them but the slightest amount of space. Trixie's eyes grew wide. She really didn't think she was going to get through the evening without making a fool of herself. He had only been her for ten minutes and he had already rendered her speechless. It didn't bode well for her for the rest of the evening.

Pleased with her reaction, Jim stepped back first, with the container of chicken in his hands. He placed it on the counter next to other food items and studied them. Leftovers at Crabapple Farm were as delicious as a first-time meal anywhere else in Sleepyside. "Dinner looks good," he declared after his survey.

She gave her head another shake and inhaled deeply, needing the air to help her resume the capacity to think. "Dinner. Right," she muttered and grabbed the containers. "I'll, uhh, I'll go warm them up in the microwave. You can get the salad dressing."

He grabbed a few choices of salad dressings. Then he leaned against the counter, with his arms folded across his chest and his ankles crossed. Jim looked deceptively casual. He hid his intense perusal from her while he watched her work. Glad to see that she moved well and fluidly, he nodded his head. Then he took a good look at the side of her face. She wasn't getting enough sleep, he thought to himself, not that he was all that surprised. He wasn't sleeping well, either. "Can I help you with anything, Trixie?" he offered, breaking the silence.

"No. There's nothing else to do." She absently pulled out two steak knives to cut the chicken and laid them on the counter. After pressing the buttons on the microwave to heat up the chicken, she turned around, intent on setting up salad bowls. A beam of sunlight came through the open window, illuminating a smooth, silver blade, and drawing her attention away from everything else. It wasn't a dangerous knife. It was only a plain old steak knife, one that was common and could be found in many households, and it certainly was not as sharp as some of the other knives in kitchen, but she found herself mesmerized by it. Her eyes went wide. She wasn't seeing that knife but another one, raised high in the air in the capable and sinister hands of an absolute madman, and coming towards her in the dark of the night.

"So I'll let you pick our first movie of the evening. I won't pressure you into a choice or anything," Jim said conversationally, taking out a container of homemade iced tea from the refrigerator. He poured them each a glass. "Don't worry. All of the movies I brought with me are terrific. You won't have any trouble finding one that you want to watch." He turned to offer her one of the glasses and stopped, stunned to see the waxen pallor on her face and the glassy look to her eyes. Reaching out blindly, he was lucky to get the glass on the counter before hurrying over towards her. "Trixie?" he questioned worriedly, intently studying her face.

She didn't glance up, was caught up in the nightmare of last week, and couldn't tear her eyes away from the knife. She pressed a hand to the remains of the small scab on her neck. It was impossible to experience but it felt like that knife was pressing against her skin again. She could almost feel the droplets of blood starting to drip down onto her neck. Releasing a small gasp, she had to touch her skin again to be certain that the cut wasn't bleeding.

Bewildered, he tried her name again. "Trixie?" Nothing. He slid an arm around her waist and followed her eyes but all he could see was a clean counter with two steak knives, a microwave, and a glass container of macaroni and cheese that needed to be warmed up. Nothing stood out to him. Certainly nothing that would cause the look of utter panic on her expressive face. But he could feel the tautness in her body, could hear the way her breathing had quickened, and there wasn't any way to deny the fear that held her within an iron grip. Not knowing what else to do, offering her the only comfort he possibly could, he brought his arms around and tentatively held her, wondering if she would push him away.

Much to his relief, she accepted the embrace without a struggle and hesitatingly returned it. Her arms slowly came to rest on his waist while she stared at the knife and had the nightmare coil around her like tendrils of thick fog, unwilling to let her go. The feeling was odd. It was frightening. And it had the power to terrify her, even after dealing with the aftermath of her ordeal for an entire week. She didn't want to talk, doubted if she could get anything past the painful clump of emotion in her throat. Even the insistent chirping of the microwave, announcing that the macaroni and cheese was sufficiently warmed up, didn't register.

It wasn't difficult for him to guess where her thoughts had gone. He released a small, pent-up breath and pulled her tighter towards him, giving her the only support that he could, and waited her out with as much patience as he could muster. Waiting was difficult when all he wanted to do was jump in and fix it for her, make her problems disappear and go away, never to return to bother her again. After the microwave beeped loudly for the second time, he reached around her, keeping one arm securely around her shoulder, and pulled open the glass door.

The motion snapped her out of her reverie. Bringing up wide, frightened eyes to his, frustrated for letting the experience mar her evening with him, she felt a hot flush spread its way across her face and then dropped her gaze to the floor, disappointed with herself. She couldn't have been more obvious and let the shame of it take over her. "I'm sorry, Jim," she mumbled, hoping that would be the end and that he wouldn't question her about what had happened.

He didn't let her get away with it. He couldn't let her get away with it, not with the remembrance of terror that had been vividly reflected on her face. Gentle fingers reached down and tilted her chin up, not satisfied until she was staring back at him. He saw the fear, the despair, and the sadness and felt his own heart weep for what she had gone through. "Tell me, Trix," he ordered her softly.

Never one to follow orders well, she ignored him. Instead, she became a sudden flurry of energy. She pulled her face out of his grip, stepped out of his arms and grabbed the macaroni and cheese from the counter, hissing slightly at the warmth of the glass bowl against her fingers, and brought it around to the table, where she placed it in the center with the utmost of care and precision. "We should eat before it gets cold," she announced, her voice annoyingly cheerful.

He didn't make a move to help, only watched as she came back to warm the chicken up in the microwave. The salad and the salad dressings were put on the table next. Arching an eyebrow, he wondered why she halted in front of the knives and then avoided them. As soon as the microwave sounded, she grabbed the chicken and took it over. Then she went back for the steak knives. She inhaled sharply before picking up them up and adding them to their place settings. It took her a matter of minutes to have the table ready. Satisfied that everything was the way it should be, she nodded her blonde head. "I think we're ready to eat!" she exclaimed overly brightly and turned to him with what she prayed for a happy smile on her face.

Eating was the furthest thing from his mind. He came towards her, slowly and deliberately, and waited until he was next to her. "Dinner can wait, Trixie. We have something much more important to discuss." When she bit her bottom lip and sent her curls dancing with the agitated shake of her head, he pressed her a little further and pointed to the spot. "You were a million miles away over there, Trixie. What happened?"

Defeated, shoulders slumped, she scrubbed a hand over her face, understanding that he wasn't going to let it go. Thinking of the tape Sergeant Molinson had made, believing he must have heard it since it seemed to have been broadcasted to a good portion of Glen Road, she mumbled back, "You know what happened. I know you do."

A vision of that night, Britten on top of her with a knife at her throat, flashed before him. It was one of the scenes that replayed continuously through his mind when he closed his eyes in the dark confines of his room, one of the main reasons why sleep had been successfully eluding him night after night. "You're wrong," he denied evenly, caught on the figurative tight rope. He didn't want to push her too hard, causing her to shut down and block him out, but he couldn't ignore it. She needed to share her experience, whether it was with him or not. "I know part of what happened since I was there but I don't know everything."

She found that hard to believe and responded with a touch of cynical sarcasm, "Didn't you know that Sergeant Molinson made a tape for my parents? They know everything, whether I wanted them to know it or not. Mart and Brian listened to it, too. Mart, being Mart, shared it with Dan one day when they were working. Dan told me that the other night when he stopped by to visit me." Other than Sergeant Molinson, she hadn't physically told anyone else all the events of that evening. She hadn't had any intentions of sharing the entire events with anyone, other than the Sergeant, but he had taken the matters out of her hand. "Haven't you had a chance to listen to it, too?" she wondered somewhat bitterly.

"No," Jim stated clearly with a forceful shake of his redhead. He touched her gently on the elbow. He had known it would bother Trixie when she found out about the tape. "You've got to know me better than that. Brian offered it to me but I would rather hear it from you if you wanted to tell me. I wouldn't listen to it, not on a recording."

She tilted her head to the side and twirled a curl around her finger, stunned by his answer. She had assumed he, as well as the rest of the Bob-Whites, would have listened to the tape already. Her assumption was wrong. The truth was shining out brightly from his eyes. "Really?"

He nodded solemnly. "I wouldn't do that to you, Trix. If you want to tell me, then I'll listen." He leaned in closer and said, "Believe it or not, I am not going to pressure you or lecture you about it. All I'm going to say is that I have a feeling it may help if you talked to me about what happened last Saturday night." When she didn't respond, he bit back his disappointment, smiled reassuringly towards her and reached for the macaroni and cheese. "It's time to eat dinner. Are you ready?"

A puzzled frown marred her forehead while she observed him set up two plates, one for her and one for him. He had them filled to almost overflowing with the pasta, chicken, and the salad. He wasn't going to push her, she realized with a flash of insight, was actually going to allow her to regain a sense of control over the entire situation. Because of that, because of his willingness to let her decide what happened next, she took a deep, fortifying breath, and invited him into her own personal hell. "Do you want to know everything that happened, Jim?"

Shocked, he whipped his head around, grateful to see the sincerity on her face, and put the plates down. "If you want to tell me," he answered carefully, afraid that a wrong answer would shut her down and send her fleeing off in the opposite direction.

"All right." Trixie took a deep breath and started, telling him all the events of that night, beginning with her realization of what had happened to Di after she had left the Country Club and ending with the final scene in the clearing that he had come across. Her voice faded in and out, moisture gathered and glinted in her eyes that she resolutely blinked away, and she couldn't bring herself to look directly into his face during her retelling. She focused on the food on the kitchen table, noting inanely that it was getting cold again and not caring in the least. Telling him felt different than when she had to tell the sergeant, mainly because it was of her own choice, not something she had been forced to do. There was also the fact that it was Jim. It was easier to share it with him, even though she couldn't stop the twin feelings of shame and embarrassment from assaulting her. It was almost cathartic. When she had reached the end of her story, she nervously folded her hands in front of herself and waited for his reaction. "Are…are you hungry?" she inquired at his prolonged silence.

Food was the farthest thing from his mind. Moving quickly, he went with instinct and pulled her to him, roughly hearing the breath whoosh out of her, and wrapped his arms around her. He tangled a hand in her curls while the other rubbed small circles up and down her back, feeling the tautness in the lines of her body. Without meaning to, he broke her. Jim held on, murmuring inconsequential words of comfort, while the carefully constructed dam she had built around herself crumbled and the tears flowed freely from her eyes, drenching his shirt. He hated the fact that her whole body shook with the force of her release but he held on, unwilling to let go, and felt his own guilt grow with each broken sob that came from her lips.

She didn't know how long she cried for. Her sobs slowly tapered off and she became aware of the fact that she was holding on too tightly to him, like he was her stalwart anchor. She dropped his shirt, which she had bunched up in her hands, and pushed herself back, smiling glumly at the moist tear stains on his shirt. Bringing up a hand, she felt the area. "I'm sorry, Jim. I seem to have marked your shirt."

"I don't care." The stains were right above his heart. If he had been fanciful enough, he would have believed that each tear of hers had made its way into his heart, branding it with the memory and fusing the two of them together even more strongly. He tugged on a curl and lifted one side of his lip when it bounced back. "Don't worry. I'm glad that you wanted to share your experience with me."

Trixie was glad that he didn't let go but kept her within the protective circle of his arms, with his hands resting lightly on her hips. "Some way to get our night started, huh?" she tried to joke, brushing away a stubborn, remaining tear.

"I don't care," he repeated forcefully.

Lifting her eyes to his, she saw the strong emotions that were holding him firmly. "What's wrong, Jim?" she wondered aloud.

After everything she had willingly told him, he figured the least he could do was share his feelings of inadequacy with her. "I can't help it. I feel so damn guilty about everything." He ran a hand through his hair, agitating it. "I keep thinking about that night. I wish that I could turn back time and find you in the woods. It slays me to know that while you were out running for your life, I was hanging out at Mr. Maypenny's cabin, only a few short miles away." It gnawed at him, would continue to do so for a very long time to come. How could he have been enjoying himself with their friends when she was in such danger? "If only I had been able to find you sooner, Trixie, maybe I could have saved you from all the pain and the terror."

"But you did save me," she interrupted, confused.

"No, I didn't," he contradicted vehemently, believing in giving credit where it was due. "I tried but I lost. I hate the fact that I lost. It was Sergeant Molinson who ended up saving both of us."

"You have no idea." She stared into his eyes, astonished that he didn't have a clue how much he had helped her, how his mere presence had given her the courage to fight, or how he had bought the time they had needed for the sergeant eventually to find them. She didn't want to know what would have happened if Jim hadn't found her when he had. "You have no idea, Jim," she repeated, her words gaining strength in their volume. For a minute, she was back in the clearing, flat on her back with Britten hovering above her, and recalling how she had felt when he had announced his arrival. The relief had been mingled with joy and fear. And then there was the piercing green of eyes that had stared back at her, promising her salvation. She doubted if she would ever forget the sight of them. She started haltingly, hoping that she could alleviate the guilt that was smeared across his face, "When I heard your whistle…it was the sweetest sound I had ever heard. I almost couldn't believe it. I thought I had imagined it. Then, when I saw your face, I knew it was going to be all right. You weren't going to let anything bad happen to me. You never do."

"But I didn't stop it. Not this time." His hand traced the bruise on her face and then dipped lower, to touch her bruised and broken ribs. "Some bad things did happen to you."

She loved the feel of his hand on her waist. "It could have been a lot worse. I can deal with superficial bruising and a few minor broken bones. That's nothing. Maybe it will even help me remember to actually look before I leap." Her chuckle sounded normal while her blue eyes took on some of their missing sparkle. "What do you think?"

"You wouldn't be my Trixie if you weren't finding some new and unusual way of getting into trouble," Jim answered, relieved to see the smile on her face and to hear the laughter in her voice.

She colored at his words. _My Trixie_, she thought to herself, loving the sound of that. She hesitatingly touched his bandage, which went from his wrist to his elbow. "I'm not the only one who got hurt, Jim."

He knew better than to tell her that his injury didn't count. Only hers did. "It will heal, Trixie. There's nothing to worry about."

His words sounded suspiciously like hers. Smiling , she went to get the glasses of iced tea he had poured for them a while ago and brought them over to the table, noting that the ice had melted and that liquid felt lukewarm. "Are you hungry, Jim?" she asked again. Surveying the food, she released a small sigh. "I'm not sure how good it's going to taste. We may need to reheat the food again."

"Warm iced tea and cold chicken and macaroni and cheese," he answered, grinning at her, and putting the unpleasant subject to rest. "That sounds wonderful to me."

She sat down at her normal spot, her flush deepening when he chose to sit right next to her, especially when the rest of the spots at the large table were available. She handed him his plate. "You'll have to let me know how it tastes."

Jim took a bite of the now-cold chicken. "It's not that bad," he informed her after thoughtfully chewing it.

Surprised that her appetite had returned, especially after her meltdown in front of Jim , Trixie picked up the steak knife and started cutting into the meat, her demons appeased, and settled into a nice, quiet dinner with Jim. He was right. She really did feel better. Arching a look at him from under her lashes, she realized how grateful she was to him.

"We should lighten the mood a bit," Jim announced after a moment of companionable silence. He put down his fork and asked, "How about you tell me something I don't know about you?"

The fork hovered between her plate and her mouth. "You'll tell me something about you, then?" she inquired, intrigued by the idea. It could work and would certainly clear the heavy air between them.

He held up his fingers in the age-old Boy Scout pledge. "I promise. You can go first," he said invitingly.

"Thanks," she said with a sardonic roll of her eyes, deciding not to add that she had already told him more about herself than she had ever wanted to share. She had needed to tell him, she realized with a start. She swallowed her latest bite of lukewarm macaroni, and contemplated her answer, grateful that he had suggested something to lighten the mood. Settling on something she doubted he knew about her, she took a deep breath and began, "You may not know this."

He interrupted her with a chuckle and leaned back in his chair. "I have a feeling this is going to be good, Miss Belden."

She waved a forkful of chicken his way and chided him gently, "Now be polite. No interruptions, Mr. Frayne."

He saluted her this time. "No problem. Go to it, Trix."

Giggling, she explained softly, "It's a phobia I have, actually, all courtesy of my almost-twin. You see, when I was about four years old, Mart managed to convince me that there were ugly green monsters that lived under my bed. I was a little more gullible back then." She gave an exaggerated shudder, able to recall bits and pieces of that day very well. Her older brother had thoughtfully joined her in her bedroom, where she had been playing with a set of Lincoln logs. Mart had sat down and played with her nicely, much to her surprise, before he had elaborated on the monsters that lived under her bed.

It wasn't hard for him to picture. Kindergarten Mart, taking on pre-school Trixie. Sometimes he wished he could have met the Belden family well before they were attending the Junior-Senior High School. It would have made his childhood much more interesting. "I can easily see Mart doing that to you."

"It absolutely terrified me. I ran screaming for my mother. He laughed the entire time." She giggled. "I was scared to death of falling asleep for the longest time after that. My mother was furious with Mart when I finally told her why I didn't want to sleep in my bed so she suggested the best way to beat the 'monsters.'" She still couldn't believe she had been so naive, although Mart had always excelled at teasing her better than anyone she had ever encountered in her life. "Moms told me that all I had to do to be safe from Mart's monsters was to keep my feet covered when I slept. So, to this day, I still sleep with my feet covered."

"Why do you have to do that?" he questioned curiously.

"Not because I still believe in monsters!" she declared strongly, sending her curls flying with a shake of her head. Chuckling at the absurdity of her story, knowing that she was sharing a humorous weakness of hers, she continued, "I'm well aware that there aren't any monsters under my bed or in my closet. But I can't fall asleep if I don't have my feet covered up, either by socks or a blanket. I guess it's just habit." Shrugging her shoulder, she added, her intuition right on the money, "Mart would probably love to know that he's the cause of my phobia. I've never told him about it. He would never, and I mean never, let me live it down."

She didn't like to sleep without something on her feet. He filed away the information, aware that it could come in extremely handy at some point in the future, and cleared his throat to chase away the very appealing and sensual picture that came to his mind. "Very interesting, Trixie," he managed to get out, trying not to imagine her in bed, wearing only socks. He hastily scrambled for something else to say. "What did your mother do to Mart for telling you such a tale?"

"He wasn't able to watch Scooby Doo for an entire week," she answered with a short laugh, unaware of where his mind had gone. Mart's furious five year-old face sparked before her eyes. "Boy, was he mad! But he didn't tell me any scary stories for a long time to come. In fact, I can't think of the last time he told me one. He must have learned his lesson." She pushed away her plate and put her elbows on the table. "Now it's your turn. Tell me something that I don't know about you."

He was still fantasizing about the way she slept. But she wasn't in her bed in his imaginings. She was in his. And she wasn't exactly sleeping. A tell-tale flush crept across his face. He couldn't tell her that, just like there were a few choice, other things he wanted to tell her but couldn't. Not yet, not yet, his mind reminded him while he drew a blank. What else could he tell her? Nothing else popped out at him.

"Hello?" She nudged him in the shoulder. "Jim? You know one of my secrets. What's a deep, dark secret of yours?"

He blurted out the first thing that jumped out at him. "I almost punched Dan on the way down here."

Trixie drew back, her eyes as large as saucers, failing to picture it. "Why would you do something like that?"

Maybe it wasn't the best thing he could have told her. He could see the whirrings of her mind as she began to think it through and pondered the reasoning behind it. Rolling his eyes, he wondered why he couldn't have told her of his penchant for keeping his closet as organized as possible or the way he liked to color-code his assignments in his assignment book. "He can be as irritating as Mart is to you when he puts his mind to it."

Propping her chin in her hand, her food forgotten and that intrigued gleam that he knew so well to glinting in her eyes, she considered the information and decided that she would never have expected that from him. He had surprised her. Needing more, she not-so-gently prodded, "But what was he irritating you about? It would have to be something out of the ordinary, I presume."

He would have had to pick something extremely embarrassing to share with her. Other images of his childhood floated through his mind, taunting and laughing at him. Why couldn't he have told her about going fishing with his father or learning how to bake a cake from scratch with his mother? Too late now, he thought sarcastically. "I can't tell you why. Yet," he hedged, gritting his teeth.

"The 'yet' saved you," Trixie informed him smartly. She would give him that much. He deserved it for all the support he had given her. "Okay, Jim. When can you tell me?"

An idea came to him with a blinding flash of insight. Inspired, he suggested carefully, trying his best not to let her see how important her answer was to him, "How about we meet at Ten Acres after your graduation ceremony? I'll be glad to tell you why then."

She pursed her lips while her eyes slitted together, unsure if she could hold back her curiosity that long. "That's, like, a month away," she protested.

"No, it's not. It's only twenty-five days away," he corrected her automatically, then groaned inwardly when he realized how much he had given away and prayed that she hadn't caught on.

Calculating the remaining days in her mind, she answered, stunned that he was correct, "You're right." Drawing her eyebrows together, she studied him closely. "Why on earth would you know the amount of days until my high school graduation?"

"Honey's been counting down the days," he lied without a qualm and then shrugged his shoulder, hoping that she would let the subject drop. Trying not to let her see how important her answer was to him, he asked again, "What do you think? You'll meet me at Ten Acres after we get back from your graduation ceremony?"

"Oh, yeah," she responded swiftly. "You can tell me what happened between you and Dan then." She also wasn't about to turn down any time alone with him. Blue eyes peeped over the top of her glass before she coyly informed him, "You know, I could probably weasel it out of Dan, right? He's a very good friend of mine. He would only be too glad to tell me what happened between the two of you."

"That wouldn't be fair or half as fun," Jim remarked idly, secure in the code that bonded the male friends together. Dan wouldn't rat him out, he knew it, no matter how hard Trixie tried to push him. "Plus, I seriously doubt if Dan would tell you. He'd probably only refer you to me instead."

Grinning at him, she gave in with as much grace as she could. "You win, Jim!" She laughed delightedly. "Although how I'll ever be able to make it _twenty-five_ days without knowing why you wanted to do bodily harm to Dan is beyond me." She stressed the number with a note of glee to her voice, giggling at his expense. "Someone would think it was your graduation and not mine."

Twenty-five days. Twenty-five days. It ran like a mantra through his mind. He would finally be liberated. Reaching out, he tapped her shoulder and suggested helpfully, "You can practice patience between now and then. If you need lessons, I'll be glad to teach you how to do that." He didn't know how good of a teacher he would be if she took him up on his offer. His supply of patience was running a bit thin.

Smiling happily up at him, she leaned back in her chair. "Thanks again, Jim. You've given me something to look forward to besides an endless round of final homework assignments and the dreaded final exams."

"No problem." He casually draped an arm around her shoulder and let it rest there. Touching her was becoming a necessity to him. "I aim to please."

She rested her head on his arm without thinking, becoming extremely used to the feel of him, and groaned at the dishes in front of them. "We should probably start cleaning up," she murmured, not making a move to start the endless chore.

"In a minute. I'm content to stay right here." And he was. Jim squeezed her shoulder tighter and stared down at the mass of tempting blonde curls. Their connection was getting stronger and stronger. He wondered why she hadn't brought it up. He knew she felt it, as surely as he did. He had seen it reflected on her face numerous times over the past week. She wasn't used to keeping her suspicions bottled up for long. But he didn't say anything, only kept his arm around her, and reveled in the knowledge that their time would be coming, faster than he had thought it possibly could. Ten Acres. On graduation day. It was the perfect place.


	52. Chapter 51

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Fifty-One

Trixie wasn't sure how long they sat together at the kitchen table, his arm around her shoulder and her head back against him, simply enjoying the silence of each other's company while the remaining food continued to get cooler. The half-eaten dinner stared back at her, making her feel guilty because she hadn't appreciated her mother's excellent cooking. Her appetite had evaporated the second she had shared the details of last Saturday night with Jim. Any of the food she had attempted to choke down had been automatic and for his benefit, not because she was actually hungry. She glanced at the clock and gasped at the time. "It's almost seven o'clock," she noted with a great deal of astonishment, wondering where the time had gone to. He had already been at her house for nearly two hours and they hadn't done anything yet but eat dinner. "How on earth did it get so late?"

Jim sent her an easy grin and winked at her, unconcerned with the time. They were together. That was all that mattered to him. "You see, Trixie, that's what happens when the company's too good," he declared and gave her shoulder one last squeeze. Then he stood up and carried his half-full plate over to the spotless sink. He hadn't been hungry either. "We should probably get moving, though. Let's get the remains of our dinner cleaned up. Then you can pick our first movie."

She followed him and emptied the contents of her plate into the trash can before placing it in the sink. Then she went back to clear off the rest of the table. Soon the empty glass containers and the silverware joined the plates in the sink. "Moms told me not to worry about the dishes, if you can believe that," Trixie added with a low, incredulous chuckle that caused a tingle to travel up and down his spine. "She doesn't want me to have to do any chores yet. She said it would be all right as long as I rinsed the dishes out and left them in the sink. Moms further shocked me by saying that she would get to them in the morning."

"Don't worry. I'll do the dishes," he offered quickly, knowing that her mother wasn't trying to do something special for Trixie. She simply didn't want her daughter to physically do any chores until her body had more of a chance to heal. He filled the sink with sudsy water and picked up the sponge. "Why don't you check out my movie selections and see which one you want to watch? I think you'll be very satisfied with my choices. They're all excellent, by the way," he informed her smugly, waving the sponge in her direction.

"Of course they are. And now you sound like you've been spending too much time with Mart," she responded with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. Not about to pass up free dishwashing, especially when she knew her mother would appreciate it, she picked up his backpack from the floor and unzipped it, curious about his movie selections, and spilled them out onto the clean table. "You have a rather eclectic taste," she noted after laying out the different movies, enjoying the comfortable atmosphere surrounding them. She was shocked and exhilarated to realize that she didn't feel self-conscious with him now that he knew the extent of her horrifying evening. He knew about her failure to escape, her weakness, and her inability to stop him. He knew all that and it didn't embarrass her or make her feel odd. If anything, she felt liberated. Staring at his back, her true feelings scrawled across her face before she hastily glanced back down at the DVDs lest he should turn around and see them, she murmured, "Let's see what we've got here." Impressed with his taste, as he had told her she would be, she announced suddenly, "You've made it too hard for me. There are so many good choices, Jim. I don't know which one to pick."

"Is there anything jumping out at you?" he called back from the kitchen sink, his hands buried deep within the suds, making short work of the few dishes that needed to be washed.

She placed them out in front of her, much like she would do if she were dealing cards in a poker game, and tapped her finger rhythmically against the table. He had brought over quite an interesting selection in movies, ranging from classics like _The Sting_ to adventures such as_ Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom_ to mysteries like _Mystic River_. She had watched many of his movies, had heard a good deal from their friends about the few she hadn't seen, and appreciated his choices. Slashing an accusatory glance at him, she had to giggle at his choice of _The Three Amigos _and _My Cousin Vinny_. "I thought I told you no comedies, Jim," she chided him, shaking a playful finger in his direction. "It still hurts too much for me to laugh."

He didn't let the reason why she was held back from laughing bother him overly much. She didn't want his sympathy. She simply wanted to put it behind her and move on. He figured it was the least he could do for her. Instead, Jim held his hands up in supplication, sending a few bubbles floating through the air before they met the side of a kitchen cabinet and popped. "Hey, you can't blame me for trying. Those are classics right there."

Chuckling, she set them aside, almost willing to chance them. Then she searched through the rest, amazed with the multitude of movies he had been able to stuff into his backpack, and unable to make a final decision. "We've got a problem here, Houston. You brought way too many good movies with you. I can't decide." Squinting, she frowned down at them, no closer to a decision than she had been before.

"You're right. They're all good. Brian and I have watched most of them when we needed study breaks during our past three years at college," he responded, placing the last of the dishes in the drying rack and emptying the sink of its sudsy mess. Then he started the task of drying each and every item, as per Mrs. Belden's preference for her dishes, and stacked them neatly on the kitchen counter, where they waited patiently to be put in their rightful spots.

Trixie wondered how many times a co-ed of the opposite sex had joined them in their student apartment for their study breaks. Biting her tongue, she squelched the unfamiliar and unwelcome sting of jealousy that the picture conjured up, vowing not to be childish. She couldn't let it matter. He was here with her, willingly and of his own choosing. In what type of capacity remained to be seen. She wished she had the courage to ask him. Using her intense perusal of the movies to hide her feelings from him, she traced the outline of the title on _The Princess Bride_ and mumbled, "Do you have any preferences?"

Completely unaware of the unexpected detour her mind had taken her on; would have been more than willing to relieve her on how many times they were joined by others to watch movies at their apartment, Jim opened the silverware drawer and dropped in the forks and steak knives before he cheerfully answered, "Nope. I'm more than happy with any one that you want to see. If you can't decide, you could just close your eyes and pick one." He closed the drawer with his hip.

"Kind of like Pin the Tail on the Donkey," she murmured, giving up her thoughts on how he spent his free time at college and focused on the more pressing matter at hand. What movie did she want to watch? It was a close call. She stared at _A Few Good Men_ and _Stand By Me_, holding first one up, then the other, until she finally made a decision. Nodding her head, she announced forcefully, "I'm going with the one I haven't seen in awhile."

Finished with his self-appointed chores, he let the dish towel hang over the edge of the sink and stared over his shoulder at her. "Good choice," he congratulated her before opening the cabinets and returning each piece to its rightful place. He knew the kitchen at Crabapple Farm as well as he knew the one at the Manor House.

"It's been years since I saw this one. I remember it was Mart's favorite movie for the longest of times so I think we should watch it in honor of him." She carefully repacked the rest of the movies in his backpack and set _Stand By Me_ out on the table. "Do you want popcorn?" The thought didn't appeal to her at all but she wanted to offer it to him.

"Not right now." He hadn't eaten his entire meal, much like she hadn't, but he still didn't have an ounce of hunger left to him. Her story had tied his stomach in knots; was still too fresh in his mind. While it had sucked out the need for food, it had replaced it with the need to be as near to her as possible. He would be satisfied to sit next to her on the sofa. "How about we hold off on refreshments until our second feature?" He arched an eyebrow, thinking that he may be able to eat again by then.

"Sounds good." She pushed in her chair and accepted the hand he held out to her. They had held hands together countless times over the years, as good friends and fellow co-presidents and club-mates, but, as her hand became encased in his, it felt much more intimate than it ever had before. A shiver started from the point of contact and then traveled all the way up her arm and down her spine where it seemed to find a permanent resting spot in her stomach. Holding his hand felt different but so damn right. She didn't know why it felt different but she wasn't about to question it or him. Leaving it alone, she relished the feeling and brought her clear blue eyes up to meet his. She couldn't read anything in the deep green staring back at her but she wasn't adept at reading the feelings of others, not when it came to how they could potentially feel about her. That was Di's specialty, not hers. "Let's go, Jim," she said thickly. Allowing him to lead her, she followed him out of the now-clean kitchen and towards the den.

Jim reluctantly let go of her hand when they reached the den. He did the honors and set the movie up. Then he settled on the comfortable sofa, mere inches separating them, while the movie began to play out before them. Neither spoke, both caught up in the same contented stillness, and sending furtive looks at each other when they didn't think the other one was looking. They focused on the movie, chuckling and sighing along with the four characters on the television screen, and discussing its merits every now on and then. When the ending credits ran, Trixie leaned back and blinked back a sentimental tear. "I had forgotten how good the movie was," she remarked hoarsely.

He had enjoyed it, too. Whether it was the excellent directing, writing, the break-out performances of many of the actors of the movie or the presence of the stunning young woman sitting next to him, he had enjoyed it more than any other movie he had watched before. Without a doubt, he could get very used to having her within arm's length. And alone. He couldn't believe that they were alone. It was a nearly impossible feat to manage within their group. The extremely male part of him only wished that he could do some other things besides sitting, watching and the occasional hand-holding. Clamping down on the increasingly strong urge, he replied huskily, "Same here."

"I think it's that time for our intermission." Moving with an uncharacteristic amount of slowness, her body stiff from sitting for a prolonged period of time, she stood up from the sofa and carefully stretched out a few kinks, her movements deliberate and unconsciously sensual.

Mesmerized by the way her blue shirt rode up, leaving about an inch of skin exposed at her midriff, he sucked in a deep, hard breath while his blood heated with a desire that was becoming more difficult to control. It was hard for him, getting harder each time they were together, to not reveal how he felt about her, or how much he needed to touch her. And taste her. He found himself staring at her lips, imagining what their first kiss would be like. He didn't have any other choice but to squelch those thoughts again, not unless he wanted to do the unthinkable and break his word, which was not an option for him at all. Too damn honorable, he thought to himself with a disappointed sigh. Trying not to groan, he started running through the chores he needed to do in the morning in the stables to help out Regan in order to get his mind and body off the track it seemed to want to travel on despite his best intentions. Aware that she was now staring at him expectantly, he coughed and stood up, hoping that he had successfully covered up his untimely preoccupation with her. "An intermission is perfect. Do you want me to help with the popcorn?"

"I think I can handle it." She grinned up at him, oblivious to the response her smile always caused in him, and headed back to the kitchen to find the hot air popper. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Do you want a soda?" she called back.

"Yeah," he called back before closing his eyes tightly. He went into the bathroom and stayed out of the kitchen, letting her work alone, and worked hard to keep his thoughts on the pure and the friendly level. Friends, friends, only friends, kept running insistently through his mind. But there was that nagging little voice that kept taunting him, making a mockery of the iron control he was attempting to hold onto, and was doing its damndest to force him to let go of his good intentions. A splash of cool water on his face helped him. When he was relatively certain that he had his undeniable strain of desire under control, Jim met up with her in the kitchen. The popper was nearly finished and two full glasses of soda stood on the counter. She stood at the counter, concentrating on the hot air popper. "I'll take the drinks," he offered, coming up from behind.

She jumped, her hand over her pulsating heart, and nearly spilled the bowl of popcorn. She hadn't heard his sneakered feet coming up behind her, having been too wrapped up in thoughts about him. "Oh, you scared me, Jim! I didn't hear you come in. Yeah, you take the sodas. I'll bring the popcorn in when it's ready." When every last kernel of popcorn had been popped, she grabbed the bowl and walked towards the den, with Jim at her side, and placed it on the coffee table. "I'll be back in a minute," she mumbled out without glancing at him, her face turning a delicious shade of pink, before heading towards the bathroom for a much-needed break.

She caught a picture of her face in the mirror and sighed, staring deeply at what she perceived to be her flaws, which were only magnified by the marks of battle upon her face, not seeing the intoxicating vivaciousness that continually drew Jim to her. She discarded her headband, wanting to free her head from the slight tension, and ran her hands through her wayward curls, disappointed with her reflection. She gave a loud sigh and headed back into the den.

Jim glanced up from the sofa the second she came back to the room and patted the soft cushion next to him. "Come have a seat, Trix."

"Since I got to pick the first movie, you can have second choice," Trixie offered fairly and took the proffered spot next to him.

He picked up his backpack from the floor and shifted his body under the guise of looking through the movies when what he really wanted to have their sides touching. Mission accomplished, he flashed her a grin that she didn't understand. "Nothing that will make you laugh too much, right?" he inquired with a teasing glint to his green eyes.

She shoved his shoulder playfully. "You already know the answer to that, Jim. No comedies for me. Not tonight, anyway."

"Maybe next time," he replied casually, already planning many, many more evenings together, and watched her carefully out of the corner of his eye to see how she would react. Maybe their amazing string of actually spending time alone would last.

The color heightened in her cheeks, making them a delightful shade of pink. "That should be fine," she blurted out and then felt even more self-conscious, unsure what, exactly, she was agreeing to.

"I'm not going to debate the movie choices like someone else I know," he informed her jokingly and unzipped his backpack with a flourish. "Watch and learn, Trix. All I'm going to do is reach inside and pull one out. No internal debates or second-guesses. The movie I pull out is the one we'll watch."

"At least I didn't give a play-by-play," she declared with a short laugh. She watched in anticipation as he reached into the backpack and searched around, wagging his eyebrows at her when he deliberately took a longer time than was necessary. She giggled in delight when he eventually came up with her second choice. "All right!" she cheered happily.

"It must be your lucky night," he remarked, staring down at _A Few Good Men _with a half-smile. Sliding a glance her way, he said pointedly, "It's about time things start going your way again."

"You could say that again." Trixie flopped back against the cushions and picked up a matching pillow, idly tugging at the fringed edges of it. The words came out easily, something she doubted she would have been able to do if she hadn't already told him everything, "I don't think I ever want to live through another few weeks like the ones I have just gone through. They must be some of the hardest ones I have ever had the pleasure of experiencing."

"There haven't too many positive things going on in your life recently, huh?" He crouched down in front of the television set and placed the DVD into the player. The screen turned a bright blue and then hummed with anticipation while the movie whirred inside. Once the player recognized the movie, it started up. He came back over with the handy remote in his hand and reclaimed his seat, right next to her.

His words caused her thoughts to drift back over the past weeks. While there were certainly events that had terrified her and she would never term 'lucky', there were a few things that had happened that she would not have traded for all the quiet, peaceful times fate could ever offer her. For one, there was all the unconditional love and support she had received from her friends and family. It had been unparalleled, beginning with the day she had told them about the strange events that had plagued her and continuing now, with her healing. Then there was Jim. The amazing experiences she shared with him were still stacking up, from the time he had checked her over after her fall off of Susie to the conversation they had shared in her kitchen a few hours ago, leaving her slightly breathless and more grateful than she ever thought possible. Glancing at his handsome profile, she came to the startling conclusion that she wouldn't change what had happened to her. The stalker had been scary. The night with Britten in the woods had been beyond horrifying. But the different times she had spent with Jim had been astonishing, amazing, and had gone beyond her wildest imaginings. Somehow he had become her most stalwart support system. While she was extremely thankful to him, she couldn't help but believe that something even more rare and special was brewing around them. She only wondered if he felt it, too. "It wasn't all negative, not really," she answered solemnly. "You may find it hard to believe but there were a lot of good things that happened, too." She chose not to elaborate and settled for a tiny smile instead.

He put down the remote, caught the intense way she was looking at him, and captured her smaller hand within his. He understood, more than she realized. "Yeah. You're right. There were a few good things, too." He recalled one of his personal favorite highlights, the embrace they had shared in the privacy of his bedroom, over a week ago, his chest tightening at the potency of it. He could remember the way she had looked in the moonlight drifting through his windows, the soft, clean smell of her soap, and the way she had fit in his arms. It was the way she always fit when he had the pleasure of holding her. Perfect. Absolutely, undeniably perfect. The only problem was he hadn't been able to do anything about it. He hadn't had any choice but to let her go, with only the lingering hug and the barest of kisses against her forehead, just like he couldn't do anything now.

His pleasant train of thought was derailed when he felt her stiffen beside him. "What's wrong, Trixie?" he asked, immediately concerned.

She closed her eyes, hoping that she would somehow be able to overcome her fear but realizing how futile it was. As hard as it was for her to admit, she was a long way from being over what had happened to her. It wasn't as tangible as it had been but there was no way she could deny the fact that she was still affected. Her sigh cut through him like the sharpest of knives. "Look at the clock, Jim."

He did. It only took him a second to realize what she was trying to tell him. It was nine-fifteen. Exactly a week ago she would have been searching through the woods, in a mad dash to find Di, and finding a way into her own personal hell instead. "It'll pass, Trix." The words felt wooden to him.

She blew out a frustrated breath, surprised that it was becoming easier and easier for her to talk to him. It helped that he was on an equal level with her, understanding more than either her parents or her brothers could. His own experiences were much worse and had lasted much longer than hers. "I hate feeling like this, Jim. I wish I could wake up and have it all be over, so that I wouldn't ever have to think about it again."

He thought she was ready and prayed that she wouldn't bolt from the room. Carefully, he brought up the sensitive subject, laying it out on the table, realizing that he was about to invite her into a world of his that she may not knew even existed. "Counseling will help you, Trix," he told her, tracing a small circle on the back of her hand with his thumb to take out any sting from his words.

Her back stiffened again, not because she was insulted but because she recalled what Dan had told her when he had stopped by to visit her. "Counseling?" she parroted back.

Jim nodded, watching her closely and relieved that she hadn't left the room in a huff. He exhaled slowly. It hit him that it didn't feel odd to tell her, not like he had expected it to, most likely because she had unwillingly paved the way with her earlier admissions. "I spent a good year in counseling. It was highly recommended after the Wheelers adopted me, as a way to help me sort through the changes in my life. I had a few issues at the time that needed to be addressed, whether I wanted to admit it to myself or not."

"You went to counseling?" she inquired, hating her lie but not wanting him to know that Dan had let that particular cat out of the bag. She justified it to herself by saying she didn't know much other than the fact that he went to counseling.

"Yeah. Like I just told you, it was recommended for me after I was adopted. I had sessions once a week at first. Then it gradually fell away to once a month. Do you remember when I would go into the City with my father every now and then?" he saw her slow nod. None of the B.W.G.'s had thought anything about it since he had explained it away as having some special bonding time with his new father. They ignored the movie as it played along, changing from a scene at Guantanamo Bay and moving along to Washington, D.C. "I didn't tell any of the Bob-Whites about it, not even Honey. Only my parents and Miss Trask knew about it. I didn't want any of you to know," he added hastily when he saw the questions start to form in her eyes. "I guess I saw myself as being weak or something like that. I didn't want any of you to think the same thing about me, especially when we were all just beginning to get to know each other. I thought maybe if you knew it would taint your view of me."

She could understand that. Even though she hadn't attended a single session yet, had her very first one looming on the horizon in the upcoming week, she still felt humbled, embarrassed and weak herself. Trixie pursed her lips, contemplating the correct way to answer him. If he had told her about his counseling even a month of ago, she would have hurriedly jumped in and assured him that she understood, but she wouldn't have been able to truly comprehend it. Even though she only had a few hours of an absolutely horrendous experience when compared to his two long years of living under his stepfather's thumb, she had a better handle on what he went through and how it could affect one's soul. Instead of impetuously attempting to reassure him, she turned to him and responded truthfully, "I can empathize with you, Jim. That's exactly how I feel. I don't want everyone to look at me differently or treat me like I'm made of glass."

"We won't. At least, I can guarantee you that I won't," he amended quickly and tightened his hold on her hand. "The counseling ended up doing me a lot of good. I got to deal with my issues from Jonesy." He nearly spat at the name, refusing to give that man even the courtesy title of 'stepfather'. "It also helped me come to terms with my own untapped anger over my mother remarrying Jonesy to begin with. I hadn't realized how angry I was with her until I opened up about it."

She had seen Jonesy, had had the dark pleasure of helping to lock him up for his assault on Juliana, as well as his participation in his scheme to have his niece impersonate her. He wasn't a pleasant person, either to look at or in spirit, and the twisted smile of his still had the power to send shivers of distaste up and down her spine. She had absolutely no idea how his mother could have ended up marrying such a man. She had an untapped supply of anger herself. Displaced anger but anger nonetheless. It was no wonder that Jim had carried it around with him, too. "Are you still angry with your mom?" Her voice was small and hushed while she waited breathlessly for his answer.

He shook his head. "No, not at all. I came to realize she was trying to do her best, for me and for herself. She must have known that she was starting to get sick, even then. She wasn't a strong woman, not like you. She needed someone to take care of her and Jones, unfortunately, was who she chose."

Trixie shivered in disgust. "It may not be the best way to look at it but you ended up here, in Sleepyside, because of your mother's choice." She couldn't be more grateful for that. Sometimes it seemed like her life had really started the second she had seen his green eyes staring back at her over the barrel of his shotgun.

"Don't I know it," he responded with a grin and slanted a glance at her. "Destiny came into play for me. That's one of the realizations I came to over the course of my counseling. Those two years weren't the best but they did force me to find my way here. I'm very glad for where I ended up." He wondered if she realized that she was one of the main reasons why he was so grateful to have found Sleepyside.

She felt the force of his stare and blushed, acutely aware of the role she had played in helping him find his new family, if a little ignorant of the fact that his feelings were much deeper than he let on. "I go for my first session this upcoming week," she blurted out with a half-giggle, half-sigh, and smiled weakly at him. It wasn't hard to admit it to him. He understood. She shrugged her shoulder. "At least I get to leave school early."

He shouldn't have been surprised that she was already in the process for counseling. She moved a mile a minute as it was and always seemed to be well-ahead of the rest of them, no matter what the reason. He lifted his eyebrows, proud of her. "Good for you."

She gave a small chuckle that was almost sad. "I have it on good authority from Dan that counseling is the way for me to go. I talked to Di about it the other day. She's jumping on the wagon, too. She was going to have her mother set up an appointment for her. I'm not certain if she has one yet or not. I haven't talked to her since yesterday afternoon."

Jim thought about the few conversations he had shared with Dan over the years and nodded his head, pleased that their friend had talked to Trixie about it and that she was following through. Knowing that Dan had helped Trixie made his irritation with his friend disappear. The man had a good heart, even if he could turn into one of the most annoying people he had ever met. "It will only work if you talk," he cautioned her, hoping to give her the benefit of his own experience. "It took me a long time to want to talk about my past."

Trixie pointed towards the kitchen. "I know it's not going to be easy for me to bring it up again. However, talking to you about it back there was good practice for me. Thanks."

"Any time." His answering smile was big. Taking the chance he had been contemplating for the past ten minutes, he stretched his arm over the back of the sofa and invited her nonchalantly, arching an eyebrow and watching her reaction intently, "You don't look all that comfortable sitting up, Trix. Why don't you come closer? You can lean against me." He added as an afterthought, hoping he hadn't given too much away, "It may be better for your ribs."

Wide-eyed and unwilling to do anything else but what he suggested, Trixie gingerly settled in closer to him until there wasn't an inch of bare space between them. Unsure about what to do with her hands, she nervously folded them in her lap. The effect of her new position was immediate. The remaining tension dissipated from her body. As the tension left, she relaxed even more firmly against him until her head rested back against his chest. "You're right. That's better," she mumbled, watching the actors walk across the television screen. She hardly paid any attention to it, more intent on the smell of his cologne that assaulted her nose and the sound of his heart beating below her ear. Enjoying the way his hand was splayed across her side, she forgot about the excellence of the movie being shown. Exhaustion began to crawl over her, taking her hostage in spite of her best efforts to stay awake. She had one moment to wish that she could always sleep with Jim next to her. He was the best antidote to her sleepless nights that she could possibly ever find. Her eyes slowly began to close, into small, narrow slits, and her breathing gradually evened out. Her fall into sleep was the fastest she had experienced in a long, long time.

About to comment on the movie, Jim glanced down, the words never leaving his lips. He couldn't believe she had fallen asleep. It wasn't even ten o'clock. He stared down at the profile he knew by rote, noting the way she had turned her head into his chest and how her soft blonde curls brushed against the skin at his neck. He tightened his hold, pulling her closer, and rested his head on top of hers. The movie continued on, the voices of Tom Cruise and Demi Moore blurring around them. They didn't penetrate him or his lagging senses. All he could think about was how she felt in his arms and the soft noises she made while she slept. Thinking he should wake her and send her up to her bed where she would have to be more comfortable, he couldn't bring himself to do it. With a feral smile, he let himself be selfish for once and held on. He relished it and marveled at the way she fit into his arms, all soft and relaxed, and thought about the endless summer stretching out ahead of them. A detail man to the core, he began to plan it out, starting with their meeting at Ten Acres on her graduation day. Each plan he made centered around her and what he dreamed to accomplish.


	53. Chapter 52

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Fifty-Two

The movie didn't hold his attention. Jim managed to doze on and off through the rest of it, with her head tucked under his neck and her blonde curls softly nestled against his chin. He blocked out the bright lights in the room the best that he could, closing his eyes tightly, and ignored the voices of the actors. Instead, he concentrated on the feel of the warm body reclining against him, mesmerizing the small sighs she made every now and then, and the way she felt against him. She was so trusting, willing and comfortable; almost as if she had been made simply to rest against him. He cracked an eye, caught her profile, and felt at peace himself. Jack Nicholson's impassioned courtroom speech about the truth didn't break his concentration. He couldn't focus on anything but the remarkable young woman in his arms. He had never expected the evening to end this way and considered it an astonishing boon from fate. When the movie finally finished, the screen turned back to the introductory screen. The music played over and over again, inviting someone, anyone, to please choose one of the many options available. He left it alone, unable to reach for the remote that sat a few feet away on the coffee table and unwilling to leave his spot on the sofa even though his arm was beginning to turn numb from the weight of her body on it. He pulled her closer to him, ignored the increasingly annoying music, and floated in and out of an extremely thin sleep.

A car pulled up. Two car doors were opened and then closed. Reddy let out a small bark. Soft footsteps sounded on the porch and then the front door opened. Jim stiffened and came fully awake. Alert, he forced himself to relax. Someone was home. Judging from the time on the clock, as well as the quiet, respectable way Reddy greeted the new arrivals, he realized it could only be her parents and that terrified him more than any other experience in his life. He didn't want to give up his spot next to Trixie. His desire to spend the night with her grew with each footstep and murmured word he heard out in the hall. He smoothed away the lines on his face, closed his eyes tight, and laid his head against the back of the sofa, hoping that he could pass for fast asleep and that they couldn't hear the pounding of his heart. Knowing that they would not appreciate the hold he had on their daughter, he forced his hand to let go of Trixie's waist and placed it on the cushion, praying that they wouldn't disturb them.

Unaware of the pair on the sofa a few rooms away, Peter reached down and patted Reddy's head. "I'm thirsty," he said to Helen. "I know I'm going to sound like Trixie but I've been 'dying' to get something to drink since we left the theater. I'm heading into the kitchen. Do you want something to drink, too?"

"No, thanks, Peter. I didn't fill up on the salty movie theater popcorn like you did!" Giggling, Helen reached down to pet their trusty dog and saw the light coming from the kitchen and the den. Soft music from the movie floated back to her. She frowned, surprised that neither of them had come out to greet them. She tapped her finger against her chin. "I wonder what Trixie is watching and if Jim is still here. Trixie? Jim?" She started down the hall towards the den while Peter whistled his way into the kitchen. Curious as to why they didn't answer her, she poked her head into the den and froze, her next words frozen on her lips. She couldn't help but smile. Trixie was cuddled into Jim, fast asleep, with her head resting against his chest. They looked so comfortable and relaxed together. And peaceful. It was the first time in a very long time since she had seen Trixie look so content in her sleep. She despised the fact that her daughter was having trouble falling asleep. The violet smudges under her eyes hadn't gone unnoticed; neither had the sounds of her prowling through the house at all hours of the night. Crossing her arms over her chest, Helen studied them and came to a quick decision. She wasn't going to wake them up and prepared her body for battle. Her husband wasn't going to like it. But she was going to see to it that Trixie had at least one uninterrupted night of sleep. Tiptoeing into the room, she turned off the television set and prepared to leave, only to be interrupted by the obstacle that was her husband.

"Helen?" Peter called out from the hallway, completely oblivious to what he would find in the den. "Where did you go?"

"Shhh," she whispered loudly back, hoping he hadn't disturbed Trixie and Jim. When neither stirred, she let out a small sigh of relief and informed him quietly, "I'm in the den, Peter."

"Why are you shushing me?" he asked in his regular voice, coming closer to the den, not attempting to quiet his steps, and whistling the entire way.

Helen rolled her eyes. His footsteps echoed through the hall. Even after all their years of marriage, there were still times when he had trouble understanding what she was trying to tell him. "Trixie and Jim are in the den, too," she murmured back.

"So? What's the problem with that? Why do we have to be quiet? What are they doing?" He still hadn't caught on, was speaking normally, and unconcerned with waking anyone up. Taking a sip of his glass of lemonade, he came into the den and nearly choked on its sweet contents. "Helen!" he exclaimed loudly, gesturing towards the pair. A dark frown settled on his face while the promise of murder sprang into his eyes. He didn't like what he saw, not in the least.

"Shhh," she ordered him, waving her hands frantically towards him. Her eyes took on a militant look that had him groaning in response. "Don't wake them up, Peter. Let them sleep."

"What? We can't leave them like this, Helen!" Peter spoke low and furiously, not as impressed with the sight as his wife had been. He put his glass down on the nearest table top with a quiet snap, an unpleasant scowl on his face. His eyes gleamed darkly while he imagined what he would like to do to the redheaded man who was sleeping next to his daughter. "What do you expect me to do? Walk out of here with the two of them like that? Wrap up her virginity and present it to him on a silver platter?"

She drew back, making the most of her five feet, nearly four inches of height, while her mouth went slack and she valiantly searched for something, anything, to say. Shocked to her very core, she stared him down, watching him wiggle uncomfortably in his shoes with a feeling of feminine superiority. "Peter!" she admonished him fiercely, using the same tone she used with her children when they were being particularly quarrelsome and unpleasant. It was just as effective.

Her tone clued him in, made him take a huge step back from her for his own safety. "All right, I'll apologize," he gritted out, giving in with ill grace and feeling a flush start to make its way across his face. "That last remark was uncalled for."

"I'll say," she mumbled, the steely look slowly leaving her eyes.

He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up, and studied the two again. "I'll admit that was a knee-jerk response," he finally said. "But it's only because they are so close together. Can't we do something about it, Helen?"

She rolled her eyes, unsurprised by his fatherly display. She hadn't expected anything less. After all, it had been Peter who had been the instigator for the edict that wouldn't allow either older Bob-White to seek the girlfriend-ship of their fellow younger members. Matthew Wheeler had agreed to it immediately, with her and Madeleine eventually talked into accepting it. "You're not waking them up, Peter," she informed him strongly. "If you did, you would only embarrass them." She dug in her heels, prepared to do battle. She may have had to give in to the 'three-year wait', as she and Madeleine had dubbed it, but she wasn't going to lose this one. Trixie would be beyond embarrassed if she knew that her parents had found her in this position with Jim. She would be mortified.

"I don't care if Jim is embarrassed or not. I'm not going to let them stay like this." He eyed the young man's shin. That would be a good place for a strong kick, he decided with a curt nod. Short, quick, and easy. He took a step in their direction only to have his intention cut short from an unladylike snort from his wife.

"I do care, Peter," she informed him regally. Hands on her hip, her toe tapping out a rhythm on the floor, she stared him down, just daring him to go against her wishes. She could make it very unpleasant for him if he choose to do so. He knew it from past experiences. "And it's not so much Jim I'm worried about, although I don't doubt that he would be embarrassed, too. It's our daughter I'm thinking of. Trixie would practically die of the embarrassment of it all. You know that. We can't wake them up."

He was sunk. He knew it. There was nothing he could do, not when his wife looked at him like that. But he wouldn't give up without a fight. There was a small chance that he could make her see his point. A slim chance, he amended in his mind when he saw the stubborn look on her face. When she pursed her lips and increased the tapping of her feet, he bit back a groan. No chance. At all. He was right. He was sunk. "But, Helen," he got out plaintively, gesturing helplessly towards the sleeping pair.

"I haven't seen Trixie sleep that deeply or look that peacefully in the longest of times, either, Peter. We are not waking them up. If napping with Jim on the sofa will help her fight her nightmares for tonight, then I'm all for it. Let her be." She put her finger to her lips, turned off one of the table lamps, and motioned him over towards the door, smiling when he followed her. A single lamp was kept on. She didn't want to leave the two in complete darkness. She wasn't stupid. "One would have thought that you would have become used to the idea by now," she chided him gently when he joined her near the doorway. "And you can't forget the fact that you adore Jim. You always have. He's always been one of your favorite friends of theirs."

"I know." Peter blew out a breath, unable to take his eyes off of the slumbering couple, finding solace in the fact that Jim did not have a hand on his daughter. One was splayed on his thigh. The other was resting near her side, on the cushion. It was the redhead's only saving grace. He wasn't touching her. "But they are sleeping together, Helen. On the sofa," he added, as if that made it worse.

She rolled her eyes again and hooked an arm through his, releasing a small, patient breath of air. Sometimes her husband could be so, well, male. It could infuriate her but she wouldn't back down. Not this time. "It's completely innocent, Peter. Nothing like what you hinted at before is going to happen. Never mind the fact that Trixie is injured, certainly too injured to do anything that would be considered inappropriate on our sofa, or that Jim, who our daughter believes to be extremely honorable and we both know is honorable, gave his father his word not to say anything to her until her graduation day. Then there's the fact that they are both completely dressed." Hiding her chuckle at his increasingly pained expression, she repeated, "It is innocent, Peter. There's no need to embarrass them or to wake them up. Let them sleep. Let them be."

What she was saying to him was completely and totally true. Trixie was hurt. Jim was honorable. And they were only two friends who had simply managed to fall asleep together while watching a movie. As she said, it was innocent. He eyed the couple closer and wished that their hushed conversation had been loud enough to wake them up. "I don't have to like it," he remarked petulantly, unwilling to totally raise his white flag of defeat.

She was well aware of the fact that he did not like to lose. "No, you don't. In a month when they are an official couple, you can wake them up," Helen responded brusquely. "In fact, I will be right beside you, helping you. Then we can send Trixie to her room and Jim on his merry way back home to the Manor House, with a smile on our faces. It will be different when they are dating. We won't have to be so understanding then."

"Do you really think that they will make that jump?" Peter cut in. Trixie had never actually officially dated anyone. She had gone on a few double dates with Honey or Di during the past two years of high school, had attended a few dances, usually as a member of a group instead of with a boy, but had never had an actual boyfriend. He didn't like the thought that he was finally going to have to deal with one, even if her potential boyfriend was someone he happened to like and admire. It didn't matter. Jim was still a boy who wanted to date his daughter.

"Peter!" she exclaimed in exasperation, forgetting to keep her voice quiet. She held her breath when she saw Trixie flinch in her sleep before snuggling even further against Jim's side. She continued in a hushed whisper, "You can't tell me that you haven't known where the two of them have been headed since the moment they met each other. I had a strong inkling about it the second you called me when I was at the seashore with Bobby right after the old mansion burned down. Do you remember?" She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You were clueless. You found it amusing. You were laughing at the way our girl had been chattering on and on incessantly about the lost Frayne heir and how she wanted to go and find him with Honey and Miss Trask in the Wheelers' trailer. I knew it then. Our girl was excited about a boy. That had never happened before."

He remembered. He could almost see thirteen-year old Trixie running to meet him and talking a mile a minute about Jim. Excitement had danced across her expressive face. Her clear blue eyes had practically begged him to let her go and search for him. And her words…she had told him that Jim was 'the most wonderful boy'. "I remember, Helen." He had thought it was entertaining then. He didn't find it so entertaining now.

"I thought so. Then we met Jim after he was adopted by the Wheelers and found out that he was just as wonderful as Trixie believed him to be." It was sweet. It was endearing. And it was a little heartbreaking. Helen cleared the clog of emotion from her voice before continuing, "He's been waiting all this time. You couldn't have missed the way she lights up when he walks into the room or the way he continually watches her when he thinks she's not looking. You had to have seen that, Peter. The only way you could have missed it if you were blind."

As he stared at the pair, he saw much, much more than his wife realized, even more than she had prepared herself for. Their road stretched out before him, starting with a young, smiling, couple, in the first throes of love, followed soon after by a very happy engaged couple, to a sight of them as they were dancing in each other's arms, both dressed for their wedding. The thought of the grandchildren they would give them, hopefully later instead of sooner, made him sigh deeper and louder. Yes, he wasn't blind. He knew the path the two of them were on the verge of starting down. He only hoped that the two made the best decisions possibly for them.

Helen nudged him. "Peter?" she questioned, concerned. "Are you all right? You are awful quiet all of a sudden."

"I don't like the thought of letting her go," he shared after a quiet minute. For some reason he couldn't decipher, it was much harder to let go of their girl. Brian and Mart already had one foot out of the farmhouse door, both surviving and thriving in their college experiences, and more than prepared to meet the challenges that life would throw their way. But Trixie…he couldn't finish the thought.

Her smile was a perfect mixture of love, joy and sadness. "It's only going to get harder," she murmured knowingly, understanding what her husband was trying to tell her. "She'll be off to college at the end of the summer, basically on her own for the first time. That's daunting in itself. We'll only have Bobby home then."

Peter put an arm around her shoulder and drew her towards him. "It just makes me wonder where all the time has gone. It seems like yesterday we were bringing baby Brian home from the hospital. We were so happy, so tired, and so terrified, all at the same time. We didn't even know that we were going to be blessed with Mart, Trixie and Bobby." He shook his head, stunned by how fast it had all occurred. "What happens, Helen?"

"Life," she answered astutely and with the glint of tears to her soft eyes. It always ached a little to look down the path that they had traveled. Sometimes she wished that she could go back to when all four of her children were young and needed her more. As proud as she was of the way her children were growing up, she couldn't help but yearn for those halcyon days that weren't all that far away.

"And then I worry what our children are going to do when they are out on their own. It is daunting, just as you said." He couldn't take his eyes of off Trixie, who looked so quiet and still when she was sleeping. It was so unlike the whirlwind of activity she was when she was awake. He pointed towards her and reluctantly admitted, "She worries me more than the boys. What is she going to do when she's basically on her own, without an adult to watch over her? Trixie has this uncanny ability to get herself into such dangerous circumstances. How are we going to attempt to curb that when she's away at college?"

"We can't." Helen chuckled softly. "But, if I'm being honest, we haven't been that good at curbing that when she's been at home, where she should be the absolute safest. Think about what happened just last weekend. It scares me, too." She leaned into the circle of his arms, thankful that they could share their thoughts and fears together. "We'll have to pray a lot, I imagine. We can also be grateful that all of the Bob-Whites are going to be in the same city. She'll be rooming with Honey and Di and going to classes with them. Brian, Mart and Dan won't be that far away from them. And Jim…" She couldn't help but chuckle at the odd, pained look that entered her husband's eyes. "Call me crazy but I don't think he'll be that far away from her at any given moment. She'll be fine. We may go insane with worry but she'll be fine. Trixie will have six willing people to give her any assistance, should she need it."

He hadn't heard a word beyond that the fact that she believed that Jim wouldn't be that far away from their daughter. His eyes burned hotly. "She's not going," he announced decidedly.

Helen laughed gleefully, knowing that her husband wasn't serious. She patted his chest. "You have less than a month to get used to it, Peter. There isn't a doubt in my mind that Jim is going to ask Trixie to be his girlfriend after she graduates. He probably already has it planned out so I'd suggest that you start working on it now."

"It's not a month away, Helen. It's twenty-five…" Eyeing the clock, he amended quickly, "Twenty-four days now. She graduates in twenty-four days."

She chuckled again and picked up a brightly colored afghan from the back of the recliner, remembering the handsome picture their older son had presented before driving up to the Manor House to pick up Honey for the prom. Matthew Wheeler would be in need of some male company. They could drown their sorrows together. "You may need to get in touch with Matthew. I wouldn't be surprised if he's experiencing the same feelings towards our son that you are harboring towards his."

The notion that Matthew may want to do some serious bodily harm to their son gave him pause. He liked and respected Jim, the same way the Wheelers liked and respected Brian, but it was so much different when there was the possibility of a romance brewing between their sons and their daughters. A beer or five sounded great. Peter arched a dark eyebrow. "I'll probably call him later today. We may have to schedule weekly meetings to learn how to deal with this." Then he tried a new tact with his wife, thinking that this could be the way to get her to back down and let him wake the two up. "Do you remember when Brian was born?"

"Of course." Her face lightened with remembered joy. While she may not be able to recall what they had for dinner two evenings ago or the name of the last movie she attended in the theater, besides the one she had just watched with her husband, she could recall perfectly the day all four of her children were born. Each time was ingrained within her. It reached into her soul and would not ever let her go. She could remember every agonized pain, every gasp of air, every laugh of pure happiness. Most of all, she could recall perfectly the way each of her four babies had felt in her arms the first time she had held them and the same first words she had whispered to each of them. _My baby_. Shaking her head, she shared by rote, "We had been living in our small apartment for six months, right after we got married. My contractions started around lunch time. I tried to hide them from you so that you wouldn't call off of work but you figured it out anyway and got the afternoon off. Then you drove me to hospital. Thirteen and a half hours later, Brian was born in the early, early morning. He was a very healthy baby boy who weighed nine pounds, nine ounces. He immediately tied you for the position of the love of my life."

She said exactly what he wanted her to, made his point much stronger with her words than he would have with his. "That's my point exactly," Peter explained smoothly. "We had Brian six months after we got married. Six months, Helen. You know what that means. We certainly couldn't pass him off as premature, not with the fact that he was so strong and robust. We had to deal with the pointed looks and whispers from our neighbors and others in this town. You know how small towns can be. I'm sure there are still busy-bodies who like to bring it up." He took her hands and looked deep within her eyes. "We weren't always responsible, Helen. We can't deny it. How do we know if our children are going to be?"

Helen rolled a slim shoulder. She had come to terms a long time ago with their choices and the hand that fickle fate had dealt them. She didn't have any regrets. An unplanned pregnancy had only hastened their wedding date. "We don't. All we can do is believe in them and in the way we raised them. Each of them will make the best choices that they can and will have to deal with whatever the consequences are, should they happen to make a choice that is out of the realm of what we would consider 'the best'." She framed his face with her hands, feeling the beginnings of the stubble already starting to appear on his cheeks. "We will support them, not condemn them, the same way that our parents supported us. It's called unconditional love, Peter. We're both masters at it by now."

Peter nodded his head, in complete agreement with her, although his fears weren't resolved in the least. "Maybe it's chauvinistic of me but I seem to be more worried about Trixie than either Brian or Mart or even Bobby." He stared at the bruises on her cheeks, thought about the many harrowing adventures she had found herself in over the years, and gritted his teeth. Out of the four children, she was the one who could terrify him. "She has such an impetuous nature."

"And she's your only daughter," Helen added pointedly. "Her impulsivity is the only reason why I ever agreed to go along with your edict to make Jim wait before asking her out. You'll probably be shocked to hear me admit it but I think it was a good idea." She held up hand, halting his words, and continued, "I mean, I think we could have cut him some slack and let him ask her when she was seventeen years old but fifteen would have been way too young for Trixie. She wouldn't have been able to handle a relationship then, especially a long-distance one. It could have caused irreparable harm to their friendship."

He drew back, shocked. "I never thought I would hear you say that, Helen."

"Me, neither." She had been the most adamantly opposed parent. "But now I can see how it benefited Trixie. It's given her time to grow into herself, to trust her own thoughts and feelings, and to believe in herself. She's much more mature now than she would have been at fifteen. It will only help the two of them grow as a couple and hopefully succeed. I want to see them go the distance. They have it within them. There will be difficulties along the way, of course. It won't be all sunbeams and roses but I believe that the two of them already realize that. Both Trixie and Jim have experienced some rather awful events in their young lives. The shared knowledge will only help them grow together." She walked over to the sofa and placed the afghan over the couple, taking care to tuck it around the two, and looked at both of them with love. She already considered Jim as another son. She didn't doubt that Trixie would help make that a reality, sometime in the future, and hopefully after the two of them had graduated from college and after they had secured great paying jobs and moved back home, possibly next door. Grinning at her foolishness, she shook her head, amused by the fantasy she shared with many parents who were sending their children to college for the first time.

Peter missed her preoccupation. He hadn't been concerned about the two of them growing as a couple. He hadn't wanted any of the potential couples, Trixie and Jim or Honey and Brian or Di and Mart, make a choice that couldn't be reversed or that would throw up insurmountable roadblocks in the plans that each young adult wanted to pursue. He had been older than both Jim and Brian and had still succumbed to the pleasures of the flesh with his fiancée. The unplanned pregnancy had been a roadblock, one that they had been able to knock down, but it had still sent them off on a detour. He didn't want that to happen to any of his children. He didn't bring it up, realized that Helen would only deny it, but he knew that she still harbored a few regrets over giving up her art studies in favor of raising their family. Coming to a sudden conclusion, he decided that he would look into the local community college for her, thinking that she may want to start her studies again, once their nest only had one fledgling left in it. He draped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. "Are you ready to turn in for the night?"

She smiled, relieved that he had accepted her decision and that he was going to leave the two alone. "Let's go." She sent one last glance over her shoulder, touched by the sight, and hoped that the two made the choices that were right for them. She really wanted them to end up as happy as her and Peter were, even after all the years had gone by. She blew a soft kiss in Trixie's direction and allowed him to lead her out of the room.

Jim let out a small breath when the footsteps faded down the hall and then continued up the stairs. He couldn't believe his good fortune. They hadn't forced them to wake up or him to go home. They had left them together, on the sofa. He opened his eyes, not feeling the least bit of guilt over his own tiny deception, and looked around the darkened room. Only the small lamp on the corner table had been left on. He stared towards the opened doorway while the conversation ran through his head, flushing a vivid red when he remembered the comment about Trixie, her virginity, and a silver platter. He shook his head to clear it of that tempting picture and focused on the rest of what the Beldens had said. He felt privileged to have listened in, even if it hadn't been the most honorable thing for him to have done. He had been lucky to have gained a new insight into Trixie's parents, as well as to why they had insisted on the three-year mandate before he could officially date their daughter. With the comfortable weight of her in his arms, he couldn't help but see the sense in it. Now. He had spent many a sleepless night during his three years of college and his breaks home wishing their parents hadn't insisted on it or made him promise to uphold it. But now…he believed it had been the best course possible. His change of heart could have come from listening in on their views or merely because his time was nearly up. Either way, he felt thankful that he was going finally going to have the chance to make Trixie his special girl in a way he hadn't been able to before. Helen Belden was quickly becoming one of his favorite people of all time. Peter was a different story. He realized he would have to tread lightly around him. He didn't want to get on his bad side. He had a strong suspicion that Peter Belden could be deadly if he was riled up.

Trixie hummed lightly in her sleep, breaking into his thoughts. He hugged her to him, reached to the side and picked up two small pillows. "If we're going to stay here tonight, we're going to need to get more comfortable," he informed her. She let out another soft, slumbering murmur in response and turned her head into his chest. Taking that as a full agreement, he put the two pillows by the armrest of the sofa. Then he slowly and carefully rearranged her, moving her as cautiously as he could, hoping that he didn't cause her any pain. He laid her head down on one of the pillows and lifted her legs so that she was reclined on her back, taking up much of the room on the sofa. He was left with the little bit of space available between her and the back of the sofa. It was enough for him. He would see to it. He turned onto his side, making his body as small as he possibly could, and lay down beside her. Then he put one arm under his head and the other around her waist. It served two purposes. He would be able to stop her if she was to fall off the sofa and he was also able to press her closely against him. His eyes roamed up and down, making sure that she was safe. Then he lowered his head onto the second pillow and breathed in deeply. Their faces were mere centimeters apart. Her warm breath tickled his nose. He may not get an actual lick of sleep through the rest of the night but, as he stared at her profile, he knew it would be the best damn night of his life.


	54. Chapter 53

**Into The Light **

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Fifty-Three

The blacktop crunched under the heels of her ivory shoes. Honey came to a stop at the edge of the driveway, watching the long black limo as it backed up in her driveway. Moonlight slashed across the face of her date…escort, she corrected hastily in her mind. It had been difficult for her all night to keep his technical status straight. He was her escort, out of pity and friendship, not her date out of desire. It hadn't mattered to her. Brian had been so handsome, so sweet, and so attentive throughout the evening. But there was a huge difference between date and escort. She wasn't going to let it bother her, not when she had been gifted with a marvelous evening. "Wasn't it an absolutely lovely night?" Honey asked while a light breeze caught a loose strand of her hair and blew it across her face. Raising a hand, she waved farewell to the limo as it drove away from the Manor House, trying not to giggle because she seriously doubted if either Mart or Di were looking back in their direction. The couple had much better ways of occupying their time. She had been a witness to a few over the course of the night. "It flew by. I find it hard to believe that it's really over."

Hands stuffed in his pockets, Brian agreed with a nod of his head. It had gone fast for him, too. He didn't want the night to end. Not yet. He hadn't expected to have had such a terrific time at a high school function. His date was the reason why. It had turned out to be an extremely enjoyable and memorable evening. Slanting a glance at the intoxicating young woman besides him, he thought that the few slow dances they had participated in had been his favorite parts of the night. If it had been up to him, he would have had the band play slow songs all night long. "It went by fast for me, too," he shared after collecting his thoughts.

The force of his admission sent a thrill of hope through her. Honey watched the limo until she couldn't see the red taillights any longer, doing her best not to let a foolish smile loose on her lips. "I guess we should go in," she murmured and turned on her heels. Aware of the added height given to her by the shoes, she moved cautiously and with deliberate care, unconsciously adding even more grace to her movements. She went up the front steps of the wide front porch, chewing off her remaining lipstick while nerves began to claw at her. She was completely alone with Brian for the first time during the entire night. Mart and Di had always been a few feet away from them, even if they hadn't been able to look anywhere else beyond each other's fascinated eyes. Wildly searching through her mind for something to say, anything, hoping to find something that could be considered sophisticated or witty and would make him think that she was more than a silly high school girl on the verge of graduating, she came up with nothing.

College man that he was, he was a victim of the same affliction. He was at a loss for words. Almost of their own volition, his feet followed Honey onto the porch, echoing her steps. She would have been surprised to know that he wasn't thinking of her as a 'silly high school girl'. Instead, he was having trouble reminding himself that she was off limits, at least for a few more weeks. When she paused at the top of the steps, with the pale moon as her only lighting and the impressive Manor House as her backdrop, she looked serene and composed, like the epitome of a heavenly goddess who had deigned to share this small patch of earth with him. It was practically killing him. Unsure how to end their evening, he stared out into the quiet night, praying that he could come away from their evening without making a fool of himself. It hadn't been an official date but, as he slid a glance at her lovely face, he realized how much he wished it had been one.

Honey strolled along the porch. Resting a hip on the edge of the railing, she tamped down on her rampaging nerves. She studied the large lawn, unwilling to look away until she was relatively certain she was able to form a complete sentence. Discrete lighting illuminated the way between the house and the stables. Other than that, any other light was provided by the overly generous moon. She didn't want to go into the house. If she did, it would only mean one thing. Her magical evening was over. "Thank you for going with me," she whispered softly to the quiet man after he came up the remaining steps, pleased that her words were coherent.

She was only an arm's length away but it felt more like a mile. Covering up a pained groan with a cough, Brian hastened to assure her, "It was my pleasure, Honey. I had a wonderful time with you." He meant it. He wouldn't have traded the evening for anything in the world.

Her lips titled up. She couldn't mistake the sincerity in his voice. She turned to him, nearly melted at how handsome he looked. There was something dangerous about the light of the full moon, she thought with a quiet sigh. It made her want to do something daring and completely un-friendlike with him. She had to force her gaze off of his lips and made herself look into his eyes. "It's so funny," she shared with him, trying her best not to giggle like the high school girl she technically still was. "Di and I spent so much time getting ready for the night. We talked about it all week, made sure we had everything ready. Then the time finally arrives and, poof! It's over, almost as quickly as if I had blinked it away."

"At least you have a lot of pictures to help you remember that it happened," he remarked drily.

She choked back a startled giggle. "My mother was rather demanding, wasn't she?" They had smiled and posed for nearly half an hour before Mart and Di had arrived with the limo. Then they had repeated it for another twenty minutes before the Belden brothers had politely reminded the Wheelers that they needed to leave if they wanted to make their dinner reservations. The four had made their getaway without a backward glance, much to the unexpressed amusement of Honey's parents.

"She wasn't demanding. She was sweet," he insisted. It had been touching to watch Madeleine Wheeler in action and had showed Brian how much Honey's mother had changed since they had first moved to Sleepyside. He leaned against the railing, their knees almost touching, and brushed a fingertip against her shoulder, surprised to find that she was chilled to the skin. "Honey! You're freezing! Why didn't you say anything?" he admonished gently and immediately shrugged off his jacket.

"I'm not freezing," she denied quickly but didn't refuse the jacket he laid over her shoulders. It smelled like him, all spicy masculine. She inhaled deeply before putting her arms into the sleeves. The effect was immediate. Too caught up in the night, she hadn't realized how chilled she had become with the advent of the night air. Smiling gratefully at him, she said, "Thanks, Brian. That feels much better now."

"Anytime." Brian groaned a little at the way his jacket swallowed her up. He couldn't see the tantalizing amount of skin that the dress had revealed anymore. He gave a fatalistic shrug of his shoulder, deciding that was probably for the best. He could let his overly active imagination loose within the confines of his bedroom instead of here, on the porch to her house, where they were alone. It would be safer and not as hazardous to his health.

"I was so proud of Di tonight," Honey said after a long minute of silence, oblivious to the fact that Brian was struggling to contain his decadent thoughts. "She was something else. She didn't let that ugly bruise on her forehead bother her or ruin her night." Many of their fellow students had stared at her the second the four of them had entered the prom but Di, with a pride that had only been hinted at before, had tossed back her head and stared each and everyone down, daring anyone to make a big deal out of her injury. She had worn the bruise like a trophy, not like a curse, and had won Honey's admiration for it. Trixie would be pleased with her also, once Honey shared it with her. "She was magnificent."

He was proud of his brother, too. Mart had sent some killer glares himself and had stood his ground, right next to his girlfriend. "Hey, what else did you expect, Honey? She's a Bob-White. We're all tough," he said with a touch of levity.

Her eyes lit up with laughter. "You're right." As much as she wanted to, she couldn't stay out on the porch with Brian for the entire night. Her parents would ground her for the rest of the school year. Even though she didn't want to admit it, her adrenaline was starting to drain, to be replaced with a bone-weary exhaustion. Sleep would be needed. Very soon. Honey allowed herself a few more minutes of his company before she reluctantly stood up from the railing. Dusting off her skirt, she murmured, swearing at herself when her words came out with the jumbled response that always happened when she was upset or nervous, "Thanks again, Brian. I had a wonderful time tonight. Really, I did. Absolutely wonderful. I can't thank you enough for going with me to the prom. It was great. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. But I don't think I would have had as good a time with someone else. So, thank you."

He missed her jumbled explanation. They were coming to the part of the night where he didn't know what to do next. "It was my pleasure." How does one end a special evening like this? Brian was lost in the dark since he had never escorted a woman to an affair like the prom before. He had to stifle a chuckle at the thought of a friendly handshake, quickly deciding that wasn't appropriate and probably would be met with an affronted glare from his date. A full-blown kiss was too far on the other end of the 'how to end a prom night with a friend' spectrum. It would be deeply satisfying but extremely inappropriate. Deciding that the only acceptable way to do it was to press a chaste kiss on her cheek, he leaned in to do that.

Only Honey didn't cooperate. She inadvertently blew his good intentions into tiny, mangled pieces, gleefully shattering them with a simple movement. She turned her head at the exact moment he moved in, intent on beginning her own farewell to him. Instead of the smooth skin of her cheek he had been expecting, his lips made direct contact with hers. Soft and full against his thin and masculine. Her eyes widened until they nearly took up her entire face and she gasped in surprised. The same shock had to be reflected on his face. He should have pulled back. He shouldn't want to continue. He knew he should stop but, instead, he stayed right where he was, with his lips comfortably pressed against hers, and was rocked to his very core. Defeated, damning his own honor without a backward glance, he took it even further, slanting his lips across hers ever so slowly, watching her carefully, and nearly letting out a jubilant cry when she closed eyes and followed his lead. It was soft and cautious, with only a hint of a forceful passion stirring behind it, cheering them on and hoping to be unleashed.

She lifted a hand in the air, unsure what she wanted to touch. It was truly the perfect ending for her. She didn't know how it had come about that she was kissing Brian Belden. She didn't want to know the hows or whys. All that mattered was that she was in his strong arms, with his lips voluntarily on hers, for that single frame in time. It certainly didn't feel like a pity kiss. She wasn't about to let him go. Honey tentatively touched his waist, holding on, and slowly began to actively participate in the kiss. A novice to the sensual art, she was stunned to realize how quick a learner she was. Or maybe her tutor was simply too good. Either way, the kiss quickly turned from something light and gentle into a more passionate and eager response from both participants. Somewhere at the edges of her mind she realized how utterly amazing it was, to finally be kissing the man she had harbored a not-so-secret crush on since she was thirteen years old, but she tried not to think too much and concentrated on feeling instead. She wanted to savor the sensations instead, to commit them to memory, so that she could experience it all over again later, once she was alone in her bedroom.

A dead man. He was a dead man. He was sinking farther and faster than he had ever thought possible and all because of one slip of a girl who he had known since she had become his neighbor. For the first time in his life, school meant nothing to him, was replaced in importance by the young woman in his arms. She became everything to him. He had never experienced such a thrillingly sweet response, didn't know how to combat it except by increasing the pressure of his lips against hers. He slowly deepened the kiss, degree by delicious degree, willingly taking her with him on a journey neither had expected or had anticipated. They may have dreamed about it in the dark confines of the night but neither had thought it would happen. Even with the added force, it was still sweet and innocent but there was a hint of a darker, more delightful promise beneath it that had their blood stirring within their veins.

Time ceased to exist for them. Their lips tingled. Their hands searched. Their breath quickened while they recklessly crossed a line without a backward glance. Neither knew how long or how involved they had become in the kiss until they were rudely interrupted. Somewhere in the distance they heard a door slam and then a vehicle start up. Almost guiltily, Honey jumped back, out of his arms, with a rosy blush staining her cheeks. He felt the loss of her keenly and watched with thinly veiled annoyance as a truck backed up and drove down the driveway. Narrowing his gaze, he thought how much he would like to kill one Daniel Mangan for unknowingly causing an abrupt end to their moment.

Then he turned back to Honey, unable to come up with anything to say. The impossible had happened. His brain had shut off, rendering him incapable of coherent thought. He couldn't see anything beyond her. Dazed and dazzled, there was a soft glow to her lovely hazel eyes that he had never seen before. It made her look more mature, as if she was the carrier of a tantalizing secret that she was more than willing to share with him. Only with him. It took what was left of his breath away. He didn't say anything; he couldn't, not without ruining their first kiss. He didn't want to mar it with excuses or apologies. It had been too damn right, too damn perfect. "Hi," he got out inanely instead.

Honey's smile was slow to bloom but beautiful in its brilliance. "Hi," she responded, her cheeks a charming deep rose that cosmetic companies would give anything to be able to copy and manufacture. There was a new confidence to her, something deep and extremely feminine, that had been born within her in the time she had spent in his arms. She saw the tautness to his body, the way his hands were clenched, and the new, intense look he gave her. She hesitated briefly before making the next move. She laid her head on his broad shoulder, stunned by their shared experience.

Of course she was a perfect fit. Everything about her was perfect. Perfectly perfect, as she would say. And perfectly perfect for him. There was only one thing that wasn't in that realm. The timing. It was off, only by a few weeks, but he couldn't overlook it. His damn promise. It was coming back to haunt him with a vengeance and taunt him unmercifully. He only had to wait a little longer. Just a little longer and then he could ask her. Brian's arm went out by its own accord to rest on her shoulder. Words were still failing him. "I, ahh, I guess we should be turning in for the night."

"Hmm…hmm," she hummed out, even more surprised with the picture his words conjured up. Turning in. Together. In her house. Honey felt the warmth the thought gave her all the way to the tips of her toes. It was too delicious for words. The door to womanhood had been opened for her. She wouldn't be able to close it now.

He gave up, pulled her flush against him, and submitted to the rather forbidden pleasure of having her in his arms again. It hadn't changed. The few seconds she had spent away from him hadn't broken the spell. It had only enhanced it. She was still a flawless fit for him. He could only imagine how she would feel when he was finally free to ask her to be his. It was with some reluctance that he drew away. Placing a finger under her chin, he tipped her head up to his. "Honey," he began slowly, wondering where the hell his famous brain had gone to. It was letting him down like it had never done before.

She felt older, more mature, than she had when she had left the house only a few hours earlier and believed that she could meet him on even footing, despite the slight age difference between them. "Brian," she answered back, her head high. She barely resisted the urge to turn her chin into his hand.

He kept his finger under her chin and another hand at her waist. He wasn't able to let go. The need to touch was strong and overpowering. It helped ground him. "We're going to need to have a serious talk," he explained solemnly, flinching at his poor choice of words.

Instantly alert, she drew back. "Why?" she asked hastily, her eyes taking on a wounded look. 'Serious' and 'talk' never sounded good, especially when they came from the lips of someone who had recently kissed you. Despite her sudden birth of womanly confidence, doubts began to assail her, making a mockery of her new, mature feelings, and bringing a trail of hot shame to her.

"No. Don't. Not that." He saw the glint of tears to her eyes and smiled reassuringly. He was messing it up. Groaning, he pulled her back to him, hoping that she would believe him if she felt the strength of his arms around you. It worked. He felt her relax and mold herself into him. It chased away the doubts, as he hoped it would. He cradled her head to his chest, praying that he could do this right without crushing her, and tried a different tact. "Do you trust me, Honey?"

It was a no-brainer. "Of course," she answered without thinking. The sound of his heart beating against her ear helped alleviate her fears and kept her from giving in to her worries. She was still nervous about what he was going to say but she wasn't scared. She did trust him. Completely and totally. She always had. Swallowing back a giggle, she realized that she had better trust him. She had just given him her heart, whether he knew it or not.

"Good." He nodded his head. "We're going to need to have a serious talk. A good, serious talk." He emphasized the word, 'good' and smiled at her again. "In fact, I think it could be the best talk I've ever had in my entire life. But it can't be tonight, Honey. Soon, though. Very, very soon." He was going to perish. The next three weeks were going to be a masterpiece of pure and utter torture for him. How the hell was he going to get through it now?

The panic was gone, as well as the feeling that she had somehow not been enough for him. Now there was only an odd mix of curiosity tinged with disappointment. "Why not now?" She was more than a little confused, could feel the start of the ramblings that she was unfortunately capable of at the tattered edges of her mind and blew out a frustrated breath after the words tumbled out of her mouth. "I mean, we're here, we're alone. There's no one to interrupt, which is surprising considering the company that we keep. It can't get much better than this. It's the perfect time for a talk, especially for a good, serious one."

He forced his eyes off of her lips. It was going to be difficult, especially since he knew how sweet they tasted. Just like her name. Pure, sweet, addictive Honey. "The perfect place but not the perfect time," he remarked cryptically.

"I don't understand." Honey frowned but took pleasure in the sturdiness of his hand at her waist. It grounded her, helped make her believe that there was much, much more to what Brian was attempting to tell her. He wasn't letting go of her. He was holding on.

"Of course not. How could you? You don't know everything yet." He ran a hand through his dark hair, aware that he was explaining things badly, and found himself wishing that he had been gifted with Mart's silver tongue. He hadn't been and bit back a vivid curse aimed at the promise he had been forced to give to his parents. "Let me put it this way, Honey. We need to set a date for our talk. How does June 20 work for you?"

There was a look to his eyes that had her heart start pounding in response. Their talk was going to be good, she could feel it in her bones. It was going to be really, really good. She just didn't know why it had to be so far away. "That's my graduation day," she responded, bewildered and perplexed.

"Trust me, Honey. It's the perfect day. It's the only day that will work for us." When she still looked puzzled, he leaned in and gave her the quick kiss he had expected to give her before, on the side of her cheek. He had been wrong. It wasn't chaste. It was as addicting as her lips had been. "I know I haven't explained it well," he whispered into her ear.

"You haven't explained anything," she countered without thinking.

He chuckled. He couldn't put anything past her. "Tell me you'll save your questions for June 20, Honey," he whispered again. "Tell me. I can't say anything else until then. It's a matter of honor."

His breath was hot, sending shivers coursing up and down her spine, and making her want to melt into a pool of water at his feet. She would have agreed to anything. "Yes, right. I got it. June 20." When he pulled back and smiled at her, a large, wide and extremely masculine smile of pure satisfaction, her brow furrowed together. "But why so long from now?"

His arms tightened at her waist. It was going to be hard for him to let her go. He eyed the front door, for the first time actually despising an inanimate object. She would pass though it soon and it would close, blocking her from his sight. "Trust me," he repeated for a third time. "There's not another choice for me. I can't say anything else until then."

It didn't sound like the proverbial brush off. He was genuine. He was sincere. And he was Brian Belden, the most responsible man she had ever met. She wasn't scared or insulted, not by him. He had never, ever given her a reason not to trust him. Although it may practically slay her to wait to find out why he wanted to talk with her about something that most likely had to do with their kiss after her graduation, she would do it. She would wait for him, without the ugly promise of recrimination or doubt overshadowing her memory of their first kiss. "I do trust you, Brian," Honey declared forcefully. "I do. I can wait for you."

Her heart was definitely the biggest and most understanding out of any of them. He knew Trixie would never have been able to do the same for Jim, if he had been stupid enough to kiss her before their sentence was up. More likely she would have followed him out the door and forced him to 'fess up. Why he was thinking of his sister and his best friend at a time like this was beyond him and only showed how skewered his mind had became. Aware that she was waiting for him to respond, he shook away the wayward thoughts and took her hands within his. "Thank you, Honey. It will be good. I can promise you that much. You can't know how much I appreciate your willingness to wait for me." He sent her a small wink.

And she fell all over again. Good Lord, she thought wildly. He had to stop doing things like that or she really was going to turn into a simpering mess at his feet. Wouldn't that be attractive? "I'll hold you to that, Brian," Honey whispered huskily. "I will. If you are going to make me wait for over three weeks until our talk, it had better be better than good. It had better be…"

"Perfect," he finished for her, causing her to laugh with delight. He reluctantly dropped her hands. "It will be, Honey." Fisting his hands at his side because he couldn't trust himself if he touched her again, Brian nodded his head towards the blasted front door. "I'll walk you to the door."

It was only eight feet away and she could have made it there easily on her own but Honey didn't point that out to him. She walked next to them, their steps matching, their sides touching, until they made it to the door. She brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes and stared up into the face she knew so well but she intentionally avoided looking at his lips. She could still feel the pressure of them against hers. "Have a good night, Brian." Her night was going to be very pleasant. He had given her an endless supply of glorious dreams to call upon.

"I'll see you later." He wanted to kiss her again but settled for an easy smile. She slipped past the door with one last look his way. Brian released a huge breath of air after she was gone, giving the door a look that should have reduced it to ashes. When he was certain she had enough time to make it to the second floor, he pounded his head against the solid wood of the door, wishing that the night could have ended in a much different way. Willingly or not, he had just placed himself in a rather delicious and pleasurable version of his own personal hell. How he was going to make it through the next twenty-four days was beyond him, especially with the memory of her in his arms. He found the strength within to straighten himself up and walked down the steps. He had a long, sleepless night ahead of him.


	55. Chapter 54

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Fifty-Four

Brian found himself on the back porch of his house with absolutely no recollection of how he had made it home. He couldn't remember starting the van or the short drive home. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that his mother's van was sitting in its rightful spot, proof positive that he must have driven it home. All he could seem to remember were sweet pink lips and the deepest, softest hazel eyes he had ever seen peering back at him. "I'm done," he mumbled with a wide smile of pure contentment spreading across his face. He didn't care. He couldn't ever remember feeling so happy or content, not even when he achieved nearly perfect SAT scores or got his full scholarship to NYU.

He didn't correct Reddy when the big dog almost knocked him down with his exuberant greeting the second he stepped through the back door. "It's good to see you, too, Reddy," he greeted the dog with a happy pat and pulled the door shut behind him with a quiet click, mindful of the lateness of the night. Reddy's tail thumped with excitement while he became the recipient of even more attention from one of his favorite people and he released a few joyful woofs that Brian tried to shush.

He jerked his head back when he heard tire on gravel. Grinning wickedly, he realized that another vehicle had pulled into the drive. Brian gave the cheerful dog one last pet. The next Belden was home. Only the youngest one was missing. And Bobby wouldn't be home until the late hours of tomorrow morning. A plan forming in his mind, he held onto Reddy's collar and crept to the nearest corner of the kitchen, with the dog gazing adoringly up at him, and waited for his younger brother to come in.

A few minutes later Mart pushed open the back door. He entered the darkened kitchen with a jaunt to his step that was unusual to find in anyone at almost two o'clock in the morning and whistled an uneven tune under his breath, on a romantic adrenaline high from the wonders of the evening with his lady of choice and the kiss she had bestowed upon him before he had left her house. In his mind, it couldn't have gone better. While he knew that it was well past time to find his bed, Mart didn't think he had it in him to sleep. Not yet. Too keyed up, all he wanted to do was remember the evening and find something to fill his growling stomach. Decision made, he made a bee-line for the pantry.

Brian flicked a switch, flooding the kitchen with light. "You look happy," he observed with a smirk from the corner, dark eyes laughing with delight when his brother stumbled.

"What the…!" Half-blinded and unpleasantly surprised, Mart jolted backwards, tripped over Reddy who had left his post near Brian and had bounded over to meet him, and reached frantically for the counter to steady himself. It was a testament to him that he was able to keep his balance and didn't land in an ungraceful heap on the kitchen floor. "One would think that the eldest sibling would know better to announce his unexpected presence whilst reclining in a darkened room," he managed to get out, uncertain if he had used all of the words correctly, and flashed an annoyed look in Brian's direction.

"And miss all the fun? Thanks for the show, Mart. You always manage to entertain me." Lips twitching, Brian held back his laughter with a superhuman effort, and started towards the doorway to the hall. When the irritation disappeared from Mart's face, Brain stretched and covered a yawn. "I only came in a few minutes ago myself. I didn't realize how late it is. Are you tired?"

Mart thought back to the night. An endless evening of dancing and conversing with an enchanting goddess. The only way it could have been better was if he could have spent the entire evening alone with her, without others milling about. The thought gave him many, many pleasant images. He would have to work on finding a way to have her all to himself, which could prove to be difficult with so many friends and siblings around.

"Mart?" Brian broke into his train of thought. He playfully knocked on his brother's head. "Hello? Are you still in there?"

"What?" Mart drew back, scowling at his brother. Brian seemed to be in an unusually good mood. He had a strong suspicion that their neighbor was the reason behind it. "Sorry, Brian. I forgot what you asked me."

He couldn't hold back his laughter this time. "Are you tired, Mart?"

"No." Mart was glad he was able to get the small word out. He wasn't tired. Hungry, definitely, but not tired in the least. He eyed the pantry and sauntered his way over to it, rummaging through the contents until an unopened bag of crunchy, salty potato chips called out to him. "I'd have to say that I'm hungry. I think I'm going to have an after midnight snack. I'd highly recommend it." He closed the door with the bag of chips in his hands and reached into a cabinet for a bowl. "Do you want anything?"

Brian paused in the doorway, lifting his eyebrows at his brother. Between the delicious dinner and the plentiful assortment of refreshments at the prom, he doubted if he would even be hungry for breakfast in the morning. He watched his brother pour a good amount of chips into the bowl with wide-eyed amusement. "You really are a bottomless pit," he observed humorously. "Where on earth do you put it all?"

"High metabolism," Mart replied through a mouthful of potato chips. "I'm one of the lucky ones. Everything evaporates the second I eat it. Therefore, I need to eat all the time. It's a necessity," he declared with an air of superiority. Humming under his breath, he folded up the bag and did the unthinkable for a Belden. He let it sit out on the counter.

Brian undid his bow-tie. He placed the thin black strip on his shoulder, vaguely realizing that Honey still had his jacket. It would be a good excuse to see her again, he thought with a half-smile, afraid that he was starting to look as dopey as Mart had when he had walked through the kitchen door. He had to force his thoughts away from the heiress on the hill and cleared his throat. Going into older brother mode, he informed him, "I'm going up to bed, Mart. You probably want to put away the bag of potato chips. Otherwise Moms is going to have your head in the morning. If Trixie gets blamed for it, then she'll get mad at you. And we all know how revenge is…" He didn't complete it, chuckled, and waved good night to his brother. He padded down the hallway only to be stopped by a faint light coming from the opened doorway of the den. "Hmm," he muttered, perplexed. His dark eyebrows pulled together. Why was a light on in the den? Especially at this hour of the early morning?

Mart ran straight into his back. "Brian!" he grumbled out, nearly dropping his bowl in the process. He caught it before any of the chips could spill out. "That's the second time since I got home that you've irritated me. What the hell are you trying to do? Set a new record? Or are you trying to beat out Trixie as the most annoying sibling on earth?"

He bit back the smart retort that rose to his lips and didn't apologize. "I'm just curious about something," he mumbled and headed towards the den on silent feet, uncertain about what he would find inside the quiet room.

"We already have one Belden who has enough curiosity for all of us," Mart muttered with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. "Don't tell me you are going to start to follow in her footsteps now, big brother. I think our parents would much prefer it if you were to continue on in your desire to become a doctor. One would-be detective is enough in our family." He let out a deep, drawn-out sigh when Brian didn't respond. Heaving a sigh, looking wistfully down at his full bowl of potato chips, he placed it on a small table and unwillingly trailed after his brother.

Hands on his hips, Brian paused in the doorway, unable to describe what he was feeling. The sight laid out before him was not what he had expected to see. He had thought maybe he would find Trixie sprawled out on the sofa. There had also been the possibility that Jim would have been sleeping in the den. But he hadn't expected to find both of them, together. It certainly wasn't something he liked viewing. His sigh was as loud as Mart's had been. When Mart joined him, he stepped aside so that he could get a good look. "Look at that, Mart," he invited his brother with a flourish of his capable hands.

Mart brushed the last of his potato chip crumbs off his fingers and frowned at his brother, uncertain why Brian was suddenly so serious and somber. Then his eyes fell on the cause of the peculiar expression that had come across Brian's face. "What do you make of that, Brian?" he asked, incredulous himself. He rubbed his eyes to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating from exhaustion or from too much excitement from his time with Di. They were still there when he brought his hands back down. Neither Trixie nor Jim had moved from their place on the sofa.

Brian slowly shook his head. As an older and very protective brother, part of him was ready to tear into the room and rip his baby sister out of the sleeping arms of his best friend. As a best friend who understood the difficult position Jim had found himself in for the past three years, he wanted to close the door and leave the two of them alone. He couldn't do either, not with a good conscience, and sighed again instead. It sucked having his best friend fall in love with his sister. It was even worse to have her return the feelings. She hadn't admitted it to him but he could tell. She would never have been content to stay like that with anyone else. It blurred the lines, made things extremely complicated, and put him in a terrible position. He imagined Jim would feel the same way, especially if he found out that he had kissed his sister only a short time ago. He could pass it off as an accidental kiss, Brian thought wildly, if he didn't mind lying to his best friend. He decided it would probably be best if he didn't say a word to Jim.

It was Mart's turn to bring a brother back to reality. He gave him a playful shove. "Hello? Brian? Anyone home?"

Brian felt a flush work its way across his face and pushed aside his thoughts about kissing Honey. "I guess I would say that Moms and Dad are more lenient than I ever thought possible," he responded wryly.

Mart's chuckle was low and dry. He saw the one light that had been left on, the afghan that had been placed around the two, and noticed that the television set that had been turned off. Obviously their parents had found them together before going up to bed themselves. He found it difficult to believe that their parents had let the two stay together. Trixie and Jim looked comfortably glued to one another, their bodies stretched out on the sofa with their legs intertwined, his arm thrown across her side and their faces nearly touching. It was extremely intimate and yet innocent. He almost felt like he was intruding on an extremely private moment. "Do you think they would be that lenient with Di and I?" he questioned curiously, plans beginning to form on what could happen if he and Di were to 'accidentally' fall asleep together on the sofa.

Brian gave an uncharacteristic snort. "Definitely not. You would be shipped up to your room without a moment's warning and Di would either be sent home or invited to sleep with Trixie." He pointed at their sister and whispered, "Trix probably got a 'get out of jail' free pass from Moms because she hasn't been sleeping well. I'm sure it took some convincing on her part, though. I highly doubt that Dad was overly excited to find them like this." He knew how his parents functioned. Peter Belden would not have been pleased.

Mart agreed wholeheartedly. He was rather impressed that Jim was still alive and hadn't taken up a permanent residence in a large hole somewhere outside. "This explains the note I found on the kitchen table before I followed you. Moms must have realized that the Wheelers would have wanted to know where their son was. The note on the table says that she left a message up at the Manor House, telling them that he was spending the night here and would go back home in the morning."

Brian drummed his fingers against the wall, picturing the scene perfectly, and not listening to a word of what Mart had said. He was too caught in his perception of what happened when their parents had found the two. "Dad would have been furious. Knowing Moms, I'll bet she wasn't too upset. She would have calmed him down. It would have taken awhile." It couldn't have gone better if Jim had planned it out himself. "Moms probably had to remind Dad that they are not dating each other. After all, Jim and Trixie are, technically, just friends."

Mart grunted and lifted an eyebrow as high as he possibly could. He hooked a thumb towards them. "If that's how Jim treats all of his female friends…" He didn't finish it, only eyed his brother who had more access to Jim's private life than he did, and urged him to answer his unspoken question. They had shared the same living quarters for three years as college roommates. There wasn't much that they wouldn't know about each other.

"Definitely not," he denied hastily and truthfully. Jim had never spent the night with a girl, either at their apartment or somewhere else. While he had dated sporadically, as had Brian, there had never been anyone serious. Brian understood now more than ever what his friend had been doing. He had been killing time, waiting for his time to expire, and doing his best to keep himself occupied so that he wouldn't go insane with impatience.

"That's a relief," Mart replied sardonically and tore his eyes off of his good friend and turned them on his brother. "Do you care to clear something up for me?" He leaned against the door frame, crossed his legs at the ankles in a negligent pose and twiddled his thumbs.

"What's that?" Brian took up position on the opposite side of the doorframe, unconsciously copying his brother's pose. He waited expectantly. "I'm waiting with baited breath here, Mart. What do you want to ask me?"

He didn't need to be prompted again. "Why the hell hasn't Jim asked our sister out yet?" The question exploded out of him. "You two are best friends. You've got to know why he hasn't taken the next step with Trix. I'm sure it's not a subject you like talking about with Jim but there's got to be a sound reason." Mart blew out a breath and pulled his thoughts together before continuing, "It's been pathetic. He couldn't have made it any clearer that he likes her, and I mean really likes her, other than having it tattooed across his forehead or painted across the clubhouse door or doing something completely unthinkable, like actually asking her to be his girlfriend. He's never done anything, from the crazy to the sublime. I admit that I'm not fond of anyone dating my sister but, if she must date someone, I'd much rather it be a good friend like Jim than someone else. You've got to know what the hold-up is." It had never made any sense to him. He had never brought it up before because it was unsettling to discuss his sister's potential love life but, since the opportunity had presented itself, he wanted answers. "What gives, Brian?"

Brian contemplated the hardwood floor. Why not share it all with Mart? he thought to himself. It certainly wouldn't hurt anything, not with the time limit nearly expiring, and it had never been a requirement from their parents to keep their agreement a secret. Both Brian and Jim had never wanted to talk about it, not with each other or with the rest of the Bob-Whites and definitely not with Honey and Trixie. Shrugging his shoulder, he realized that there wasn't any harm in filling Mart in. "He hasn't had much of a choice, Mart," he explained slowly.

"Finally. The long-running mystery is going to be cleared up." Mart slipped off his bow-tie and ran the material through his fingers. Curiosity must run in the Belden genes, he thought with a smirk. It had a stranglehold of him right now and wouldn't let him go. "Let's hear it, Brian."

He found it hard to believe that the conversation had happened almost three years ago. The time had gone by much faster than he had expected it to. "It happened shortly after Jim and I graduated from high school. If you remember, the girls would have been fifteen then. I was already eighteen. Jim would have been on the verge of turning eighteen that summer." Brian paused, allowing the memories of the day three years earlier to come back to him. He remembered how disappointed he had felt, how hard it had been for him to accept the news. Somewhere between that summer and the time he had started college he had become resigned to the decision and had stopped dwelling on it. He hadn't had much of a choice. He realized now how much of a defense mechanism that had been. He had blocked away the burgeoning feelings that were developing for Honey, kept them hidden behind his schoolwork and had done his best to forget that they were there and he had almost succeeded. It frightened him how close he had been to succeeding. Thinking back on the recent kiss they had shared, he realized how stupid he had been. For someone who was gifted with an awful lot of book smarts and intelligence, it had taken a misplaced kiss for him to learn that there was much more to life than textbooks, grades, and scholarships.

Mart couldn't guess at the many conflicting emotions traipsing across his brother's face. There were too many for him to identify. He wasn't used to having such an available access to his older brother's thoughts and emotions. Brian was the only Belden child who could successfully hide what he was feeling at any given moment. It was the curse of the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Beldens that they could not do it. "And…" he encouraged him, impatiently twirling the black material in his hands.

"Sorry about that." Brian shook himself out of his reverie. While he couldn't regret the way he had thrown himself into his college work, he would definitely have to become better at carving out time for other, more pleasurable pursuits. "Our parents had come up with what they believed was a brilliant idea. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. It doesn't matter anymore because the time on it is nearly up on it." He shrugged his shoulder.

"Ugh!" Mart groaned out, tugging at his short hair with his hands. "Come on, Brian! Could you get any more cryptic? You're giving the worst explanation ever."

Brian pressed ahead as if he hadn't heard Mart. "Jim and I both were invited into a serious conversation with our respective parents. Moms and Dad talked to me one morning when Trixie was somewhere with Honey. I think they conned you into taking Bobby with you when you were visiting Dan at Mr. Maypenny's because neither of you were around, either. The Wheelers had the same talk with Jim that day, too. During our conversation, we were told that we weren't allowed to date Trixie or Honey, not until they graduated from high school. Moms and Dad, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler, thought that the girls weren't mature enough to be our girlfriends. They didn't want them involved in that type of relationship. Older boyfriends, long-distance relationships; that type of thing. They believed it was most likely a recipe for disaster, especially among good friends, and they wanted to err on the side of caution. They didn't think they were ready for something like that." Part of him hated to admit it. Their parents may have been right. The chances would have been slim that either couple would have survived the difficulties brought on by a budding relationship at that time. "They also wanted us to enjoy our college years." The last hadn't had a big effect on either of the young men. He hadn't created a wide social network. Neither had Jim. Both had been satisfied with a few good friends and a very limited social life, putting their goals ahead of the collegiate need to have fun and to experiment with the first bout of independence.

Mart drew back, blue eyes as wide as saucers, and let Brian's revelations sink in. Things were suddenly making perfect sense to him. "So you and Jim weren't allowed to date them," he repeated, allowing the news settle. All of his wonderings were laid to rest. Slowly nodding his head, he added, "That finally clears a lot of things up for me. I never understood why Jim didn't make a move. The guy has always been absolutely nuts about Trix. He's got to be a glutton for punishment, if you ask me, or certifiably insane, but…Then there was you..." He studied Brian closely, a frown tilting his lips down. "I've never been that good at getting a read on you in that area, even if you are my brother. You've always been extremely good at holding your cards close to your chest. You weren't nearly as obvious as our slumbering pal over there."

One side of his mouth curled up self-mockingly. He hadn't been certain himself about what he wanted. There wasn't a doubt in his mind now. "I had my priorities, Mart, but they don't seem quite as important to me now as they used to be."

Mart's face lit up with interest and he rocked back on his heels, grateful to be given the chance to look into the inner workings of his brother's mind. He stroked his chin with sham seriousness and declared, "It sounds to me like my esteemed elder brother has met with an unexpected change in his course of action. I wonder if the recent evening he spent in the company of our honey-haired neighbor may have had something to do with it?"

"Hah, hah," Brian laughed half-heartedly, feeling the unfamiliar sting of yet another flush dance across his cheeks.

"I can deduce from the recent information you have given me and the indisputable fact that our peacefully sleeping friend over there has had a hard time leaving our sister's side during the past week that Jim is impatiently waiting for our sister's graduation day." He arched an eyebrow and paused before questioning, "How about you, Brian? What are you plans for June 20?"

"That's between me and Honey," Brian answered without hesitating. He could still feel Honey in his arms, the taste of her lips against his, and how she had looked in that amazing dress. Unknowing to him, his face softened, telling Mart more than words could say what his true intentions were.

"Good for you." Three Bob-White couples, Mart thought with a large grin. It sounded excellent to him. That only left poor Dan out in the cold. He clapped Brian on the back and walked out the door, picking up his bowl of potato chips along the way. "I'll see you upstairs, Brian. 'Night!"

With an absent wave, Brian contemplated the couple for a long minute before he gave up. If their parents hadn't found anything wrong with the way the two of them were stretched out on the sofa, then he wasn't going to interfere. But he filed it away for future use. Jim would owe him. There would have to be a time when he could ask a huge favor from Jim. He backed out of the room, moving as quietly as he could, and left it exactly the same way that he had found it.

Trixie released a small breath of air, listening to the sound of Brian's footsteps quietly fading away down the long hall. Reddy's barking had interrupted her sleep earlier, jolting her awake. She had been amazed to find Jim sleeping next to her. Then her brothers had arrived and hadn't bothered to keep their voices low. It had been tough but she had feigned sleep, not wanting to force an end to her unexpected but welcome sleeping arrangements. She heard everything they had said. Everything. The knowledge warmed her more than the comforting afghan around her body.

Turning an incredulous look at Jim, she let the words she had recently heard wash over her again and felt them sink in permanently. With the best of intentions, their parents had conspired against them. He wanted to ask her out but he couldn't. He wouldn't be free to, not until he had fulfilled his promise to his parents. She knew him extremely well. He wouldn't be willing to break his promise. The smile that split her face was magnificent in its brilliance. In a ten-minute conversation, her brothers had laid many of her own doubts and fears to rest. She had always wondered why they hadn't attempted to take their relationship beyond fond glances and into something more than just simple friendship, had always thought that maybe her romantic expectations had been only in her own self-delusional imaginings, but, now that she knew everything…Trixie contemplated the possibilities. Her eyes widened when she recalled how he had invited her to meet him after her graduation. Alone. At Ten Acres. The place they had met. It was only a little over three weeks away. Three weeks. Three suddenly extremely long weeks. Her high school graduation, which she had been looking forward to for just about ever, took a serious backseat. She couldn't wait to be able to talk with him. Patience had never been her strong point. How on earth was she going to make it that long? Trixie didn't know. She exhaled sharply.

The warm flow of air blew out across his face. He stirred, unable to shake off the confines of sleep, and let himself be dragged back under. "Hmm…Trixie," Jim murmured, his voice coated thickly and his eyes tightly closed. He didn't want to wake up, not when he was comfortably ensconced next to her. His arm snaked out, tugged her closer, and he buried his face in her curls, all without looking at her. Having her in his arms brought the biggest sense of peace over him. He had enough presence of mind to wonder how the hell he was ever going to be able to sleep without her before ordering her lowly, "Go back to sleep," which he promptly did.

It sounded like the best idea she had ever heard. Trixie curled into him, reveling in the strength of the arm around her, and the feel of his body pressed up against hers. She had a moment to ponder how, exactly, they had managed to come into their present position. The last she remembered was leaning against his chest while the movie had played on around them. She couldn't recall reclining back on the cushions. But then she closed her eyes and listened to his soft, even breathing. It was the sweetest music she had ever heard. She slowly became aware of more. The leg he had carelessly thrown over top hers. His arm riding low at her waist. His head resting on top of hers. It was the perfect ending to any night for her. She nuzzled even further against his chest. With deliberate slowness she brought her hand up and laid it hesitatingly against his side, almost afraid that she would wake him up or that he would shrug her off in his sleep. She breathed a sigh of relief when his arm tightened reflexively around her in response. She splayed her fingers out, marveling at how right it felt to touch him. Too caught up in the warmth of his embrace, she didn't feel the slight twinge around her ribs. He was the best possible medicine she could ever have had. She concentrated on him, just him, and closed her eyes. For the first time in a week she did not relive her horrifying nightmare the second she closed her eyes. All she felt, all she thought about, centered around the man lying beside. The next thing she knew she was fast asleep, with very pleasant dreams dancing around in her mind, and a beguiling smile on her lips.


	56. Chapter 55

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Fifty-Five

Jim let out a small groan. He didn't want to open his eyes. Something was different, well out of anything he had ever experienced before, but he couldn't figure out what it was. It was a good difference, he could tell that, but he couldn't pull the reason out from his sleep-induced mind. Going with the powerful logic of his brain, he started to puzzle out where he was and why he was experiencing such a tremendous feeling of peace and contentment. He wasn't in his comfortable bed at home. He definitely wasn't in his other bed at the student apartment he shared with Brian. A man who loved to have room to stretch out his long limbs, he couldn't figure out why he felt so squished or why there was a pressure against his side. One arm was trapped underneath him. It had gone numb, which didn't make any sense to him, and the other was wrapped around something soft and warm. Something kept tickling his nose. He had to know the answer to the mystery. Disoriented and a little confused, Jim cracked open a blurry eye. It all came flooding back to him in the span of a single heartbeat. Every single, astonishing, remarkable moment. He knew where he was and who was lying next to him.

Hesitatingly, he brought his hand up and smoothed back the mass of yellow, tumbled curls that were responsible for the tickle under his nose. She didn't stir, only let out a small murmuring noise that he felt all the way to the tips of his toes, and turned her head into his chest, as if she was unconsciously asking for more of his touch. His grin was one of pure male delight, enjoying the way she felt against his skin. She was the best sight he had ever woken up to.

He stayed where he was for a long time, unwilling to give up the pleasure of having her next to him, and ignoring the uncomfortable aches in his body. His trapped arm felt dead while his left side was practically begging him to move but he didn't give in to the need. He gently moved his free arm up and down her back, hard enough to feel her but soft enough not to wake her up, and did his honorable best not to touch a few extremely tempting places on her body. He could just make out the tiny blue digital numbers on the DVD player. Five-thirty in the morning. It was hard for him to recall the last time he was awake and alert at such an early time. He was surprised by how rested he felt. He may not have slept for the requisite eight hours of sleep that nine out of ten doctors recommended but he didn't feel tired. He felt terrific.

Gently fondling one of her curls, loving the silky feel of it between his fingers, he reflected back on the conversation between her parents that he had overheard and leaned back further against the back cushion of the sofa, taking her with him, and deciding it was a good thing that he was already awake. He didn't want to chance running into her father. While he certainly liked and respected Peter Belden, he had a strong sense of self-preservation. He didn't want to see him this morning, not when he could hopefully get out of the house before her father come downstairs. It didn't seem like the best idea to let her family find them together. As he stared down at their tangled legs and noticed how the centers of their bodies were nearly perfectly matched up, causing a powerful reaction in him that he hoped she wouldn't notice, he came to the stunning realization that her parents would not have let them stay together in their present position. If they had come across them the way that they were now instead of her innocently sleeping against his chest, both upright and not horizontal, neither Helen nor Peter would have cared about embarrassing Trixie. They would have been woken up, swiftly and without any pangs of regret, and would have sent the shocked and humiliated two to their own, separate beds. Her parents would never have let them stay together. It had been his decision to lay them fully out on the sofa, behind their backs. He refused to feel guilty while his grip increased on her side. While it may have proved that Peter had been more than right in his desire to make the two of them wait until Trixie had graduated from high school, it had more than been worth it. He knew that the memories of her sleeping in his arms would carry him through many of his own sleepless nights to come.

Jim allowed himself a few more minutes to savor the feeling and to commit it to memory. When the blue numbers gave way to six o'clock, much quicker than he wanted them to, he released a sigh. His self-appointed time limit was up. It would be best for his health to get out of Dodge before the rest of the Belden crew started stirring. Not wanting any of her family to find them looking the way that they did, he carefully tossed back the afghan and studied Trixie. Eyes narrowed, he wondered if he could get out of the sofa without waking her up. He cautiously pushed himself up, gritting his teeth at the pins and needles that shot uncomfortably up his arm, and twisted his body to the side.

From deep within her soul, she felt the loss of him immediately. Instantly awake, her blue eyes popped open, only to find Jim above her, staring down at her intently, with a mere foot of space separating their faces. It was the stuff her dreams were made of. Trixie's mouth bowed into an O of astonishment while she fought the urge to pinch herself, to prove that she was actually with him. "Jim," she squeaked out throatily, praying wildly that her breath was fresh, and became aware of the different points where their bodies were still touching. Her heart started to beat fast and she felt her palms go wet with sweat.

With two arms on either side of her, only the barest amount of room between them and her chest, she was essentially pinned beneath him, with no way of leaving the sofa. Her curls were tossled deliciously, making his fingers ache to run through them and mess them up even more. Her blue eyes were looking at him in pure wonderment, as if she had forgotten how they had come to be together in such a position. He could sympathize with her. It had taken him a while to remember himself. And her parted lips...they were beckoning him like no other pair had ever done before. If she didn't close them soon, he was going to give in to the desire that was becoming stronger and stronger with each passing moment. It was like his most secret fantasy come to life. Only in his fantasy he didn't have the deep sense of honor instilled in him by his father holding him back. He was able to give in to every delicious and decadent thought that he ever had. "Good morning, Trixie," he got out huskily, doing his best to put those thoughts on the backburner.

With him partially on top of her, he was going to have to make the first move. She wouldn't be able to get up first. Her leg was still caught under his and she was flat on her back. She could push herself up if she wanted to deal with the sharp pain the motion would cause from her ribs. She didn't. There was also the fact that she didn't want to come out from under him. She was ecstatic to stay where she was. Bringing up a hand, she brushed a curl out of her eyes, hiding a small groan of disappointment when it bounced back into its former place. "What…what time is it?"

He glanced over at the clock again. "A little after six," he answered, for once overlooking the need to be principled and gave in to the only road to temptation that he could. In spite of the fact that it was the wrong path to choose, he stayed right where he was. His hands fisted at her sides when he had a strong image assault him of what he would like to do with them. He concentrated on keeping his breathing low and even and hoped that the desire he felt for her wasn't shining out from his eyes.

She saw something flicker within the emerald depths but was too naïve to understand what it was. They were caught together for an endless moment, both unsure what to say next and neither willing to move. With her new insight into Jim and the feelings he had for her through her brothers' conversation, Trixie could feel an unfamiliar eagerness build within her. She couldn't take her eyes off of his lips which was a place she had never contemplated that long before on Jim and wondered what it would feel like to have them on her. Her cheeks turned a becomingly pink color while she hastily looked away, only to find his chest instead. Then she wasn't capable of rational thought.

Jim didn't know what she had been thinking or why her face had bloomed with a pretty rose color. He was too busy concentrating on her, studying the way she looked first thing in the morning. He knew it would be an exceedingly long time before he got to experience the pleasure of waking up to her in his arms again. Part of him was begging for him to release the frustrations that had been pent-up within him for the longest of times but, as he stared into the bluest eyes he had ever seen, he couldn't let the more feral part of him win out. The timing was off. Way off. He couldn't justify any other response, no matter how pleasurable it could be for them. Biting back a groan, he pushed himself fully back and sat up. When he guessed that she would have a hard time sitting up, he reached out a competent hand to help her up.

"Thanks," Trixie mumbled, accepting his hand with a small grin. It didn't hurt too much to sit up, not with him supporting her, and she leaned against his side. She ran an absent hand through her hair in an attempt to help the tangle of curls although it was ineffective. She wouldn't be able to tame them without a shower, a comb, and the magical mousse her mother had bought for her.

He found himself in unchartered territory. He didn't know what to say to her. She looked delightfully rumpled, which only prompted more visions of what he would like to do attack him. It was his turn to flush. He shifted uncomfortably and desperately tried to find something, anything, to distract him. Because he didn't know what to say or do next, he picked up the afghan from the floor and concentrated on folding it neatly. "Did you…ahh…sleep well?" he inquired, thankful that his voice sounded normal.

Her nose crinkled up with her smile. "Yes," exploded out of her before she could stop it. "I slept extremely well. It was the best night of sleep I've had since all of the unpleasantness began." She glanced down at her hands shyly, wishing that she wasn't so impulsive and impetuous, and that she had more experience when it came to conversing with a man; not just any man but a man who she wanted to have as a boyfriend.

His answering smile was slow and pleased. He liked her answer and the fact that there hadn't been any artifice behind it. One of the things he adored about her was the fact that she didn't have it in her to be coy or artificial. She was his Trixie, through and through, and he couldn't have been happier. "Same here," he told her, his green eyes lighting up with pure satisfaction. "I haven't been finding sleep all that restful, either."

"Right." She barely got the one-syllable word out, feeling like it was the stupidest response ever, but unable to come up with anything else. Whether it was because they had spent the night together or because she had learned something intoxicatingly exciting about Jim and his feelings for her, her brain seemed to have left her and had turned into a pile of ooey, gooey mush. She could hardly think, let alone speak, and hid a groan at the tell-tale and familiar flush as it work its way across her face again. Hoping that he hadn't noticed it, she stood up when he did, not knowing what else to do next, and tapped her fingers nervously against her thighs. What to do? What to do? She didn't have any experience waking up with a man at her side. Inspiration struck and she impulsively asked him, her voice louder than she had intended, "Breakfast! Are you hungry, Jim? Do you want to have breakfast? I could make it for you."

He bit back the chuckle at the strength of her invitation, understanding completely the nerves that had forced it out of her. Sharing the first meal of the day with Trixie would be wonderful. However, breakfast with her family would be far from wonderful, especially with her father staring back at him most likely with murder in his eyes. Thinking about Peter Belden made him clear his throat and gently refuse the suggestion. "I'd love to, Trix, but I should probably be getting home before my family wakes up and wonders where I am." It was a flimsy excuse. His parents were not early wakers and neither was Honey. No one at the Manor House probably even knew that he hadn't made it home yet.

"Oh, yes. That's right. Of course." She nodded with complete understanding. "Yeah. I forgot about that. We don't want to worry them." She glanced back at the sofa, swearing that she could still feel his arms wrapped around her and had to settle for her own arms instead. "Do you think they are worried about you?"

"They didn't expect me home until late. Unless someone woke up early, they probably don't know I didn't come home yet." He stared at the doorway, knowing he should start through it but unable to leave her. "I should have called to let them know that I was going to stay here for the night," he added with a small frown.

"Your parents will understand." Trixie stuck her hands into the pockets of her rumpled jeans and hastened to assure him, "That would have been hard for you to do. You didn't plan on spending the night with me. It just kind of…happened."

"That's true." He chuckled, low and deep, and reluctantly started for the doorway. Letting his parents know where he was spending the night had been the furthest thing from his mind. He should have been more considerate, especially with the events of last week, he thought with a small shrug of his shoulders, but at least he was past the age of being grounded. If his parents were upset with him for not calling, he would be the recipient of a stern lecture but that would be the end of it. It would be worth it, he thought as he stared at Trixie's back.

After straightening up the sofa, she picked up the bowl of stale popcorn and followed him to the doorway. "I doubt they will be mad at you, Jim. They knew where you were at."

He wondered how they would feel if they knew about his sleeping arrangements for the night. A man of sound mind and a great deal of intelligence, he wasn't about to volunteer that information. He would leave that up to the Beldens, should they want to enlighten his parents, and then he imagined he would get an even sterner lecture. With intentionally light footsteps, he made his way into the kitchen, grateful to find out that no one else was awake in the household. "It's odd that your kitchen is so empty this early in the morning," he remarked with one eye on the open doorway, almost as if he expected a herd of Beldens to come pouring through it at any given moment.

"We don't get up quite as early as we used to," Trixie shared with an amused grin. "You know what it's like. I think some of Brian and Mart's bad habits of sleeping in when they've come back for college breaks have caught up with the rest of us. Mart's actually better at waking up early than Brian is, if you can believe that. No one will probably start stirring for awhile."

"Your family was out late last night, too," Jim remarked idly. He didn't have a clue when her brothers returned home but he was acutely aware of when her parents had come home. He didn't share his knowledge with her and caught his name scrawled across a note of the kitchen table. He picked it up and started to skim its contents. "Maybe they will sleep in even later." He certainly hoped that they would.

"We were probably the first to fall asleep," Trixie noted correctly. She didn't admit that she had heard her brothers arrive home. If she told him that, then he may start to wonder why she had decided not to wake him up. She was not about to share with him that she wouldn't have willingly given up her spot on the sofa for anything. While she may be able to track down notorious criminals, she did not have the courage to give such a telling piece of information to him. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to read the note over his shoulder, she failed miserably and gave up. "What's that, Jim?"

"Your mom called my house last night," he told her, feeling the nagging feeling of guilt leave him and released a large sigh of relief. "She said that she left a message for my parents so that they knew where I was at."

"That's good." She nodded her head, realizing how relieved he must feel. "You've got to feel better. Now you don't have to worry about them. They knew where you were." Putting a hand on the table to steady herself, she picked up a thin black strip of material from the floor. "Mart or Brian must have dropped this last night," she muttered, identifying it as an unformed black bow-tie, and put it carefully onto the kitchen table.

"Did you mind missing out on your senior prom?" He saw the almost wistful expression on her face and bit his bottom lip, hoping that she hadn't missed going to it. It was a once-in-a-lifetime event, though. It hadn't bothered him to boycott his prom during his senior year. He prayed that she hadn't missed hers.

Trixie glanced up. "Gleeps, no!" she exclaimed with a small laugh, holding her hands up and giving a vehement shake to her head that sent her curls off into a riotous dance. "I didn't want to go to the prom anyway. I only agreed to go because Honey and Di kept hounding me. I thought it would be better to give in than to listen to them keep pestering me about it. Believe me, I had a much better time here than I would have had there. I wouldn't have traded last night for the world." And she cursed her frankness again, fervently wishing that she could pull back her truthful yet fierce words. She wanted to groan but didn't, wondering why she had to have been gifted with a tongue that couldn't stop tripping over itself in its hurry to give everything away to Jim.

One of the things he liked and respected most about her was her honesty. She had a terrible time trying to keep things from others. Even when she succeeded in keeping her thoughts and ideas a secret, especially when she was working on a mystery, he was always able to tell that there was something going on with her. It may take her a fair amount of time before she clued him in but he appreciated the fact that she always brought him into it, whether it was at the beginning, the middle or the end. "I had a great time, too," he shared simply with a meaningful look.

With her new insight into him, she was able to understand for the first time the different way he was looking at her. It made an answering glow begin within her that quickly wound its way onto her face. She found herself wanting to give in to her impulsiveness and throw herself into his arms, nearly one hundred percent certain that was what he wanted her to do, but she forced herself to stay where she was. She couldn't, not without admitting to him what she knew, and not without putting him in a very awkward position with his parents and hers, too. It wasn't the way to start off their relationship, if that was indeed what he wanted to have happen. How she prayed it was. They needed to start it off right.

"Trixie?" He nudged her arm. When she brought her startled eyes back to his, he added quietly, "I've said the same thing to you a few times already. You were a million miles away. Is everything all right?"

She had to grin at the concerned way he looked at her. "Sorry about that. You know me. I got caught up in my own thoughts. Nothing serious." She intentionally didn't add what she had been thinking about. Moving quickly, she brought the bowl of popcorn over to the counter and put it on top of it. In desperate need for a topic of conversation, she grabbed onto the first thought that she had. "Do you think the others had a good time at the prom?" She wasn't all that curious. Di and Honey would fill her in later, with many more details than she cared to know about.

"Mart and Di got to go together. I'll bet it was the best night of their lives to date. And Honey was able to go with Brian." He remembered how the two of them had looked at the Manor House. They were perfect together. It was about time Brian had realized it. Jim shook his head, glad that the two of them had an unspoken agreement to never discuss each other's sisters. Catching Trixie out of the corner of his eye, he realized how awkward it was going to be for the two best friends.

"You don't need to say anymore." Trixie broke into his thoughts this time, laughing again. "All of them would have had a wonderful time together. I can't wait to see the pictures." She arched an eyebrow. "Knowing your parents and the Lynches, I'm sure that there are a multitude of pictures from last night."

"I was only there for a little bit but my parents took a ton of pictures of Honey and Brian during that time. You're right. There won't be a shortage," he shared with a joking grin. "You'll get to see plenty of them, whether you want to or not. I'll bet none of them will be able to smile for a week."

"Better them than me!" she sang out with an answering smile. She turned towards the refrigerator and pulled out the carton of orange juice, grateful that she hadn't had to have been photographed in countless different poses and places. "Can I interest you in a glass?" she offered over her shoulder.

"Definitely." Leaning against the counter, eyes narrowed, he watched her at work and catalogued each and every movement she made. She was moving more fluidly and with ease, much better than she had when he had stopped by to visit a few days ago. It was clear that she was healing. It would take time but she would be back to her normal self. She walked over to him without a hitch to her step and offered him a glass of juice. Their fingers briefly brushed when he accepted the glass from her. An electric surge passed through him, causing him to nearly fumble the pass, but he managed to save the glass before it fell to the floor. "Thanks, Trix." He tried to disguise his reaction with a well-timed cough.

She felt it, too. An almost undeniable connection, extremely powerful and that promised not to be satisfied until all of their cards were out on the table. Needing to clear her throat, she took a large step backward. The orange juice went down, completely untasted, while she was rendered speechless for the second time that morning. She was really going to have to work on how to respond when they were together. Otherwise she was afraid that she was going to come off as the village idiot of Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson.

He didn't call her on need to put a little distance between, used his own glass as a way to help him collect his thoughts and feelings, and thought that was the best move either one of them could have made. He was going to have to leave, the sooner the better, for both of them, before he did something that he was going to regret. "Regan still needs a little extra help with the horses," he began swiftly, thinking that his reason for going home was hurried and not well thought out. "I'll stop in at the stables on my way home and get a few chores out of the way before he wakes up. It'll help him out."

Trixie placed her half-full glass on the counter, only half-aware of what he had said. It was going to be difficult to keep her new knowledge to herself but, she realized with an inner frown, she didn't have much of a choice. Her impulsive nature needed to be curbed. Whatever was happening between them was much too special, much too precious, and she didn't want to spoil it. Unfortunately, she ruefully admitted to herself, she had a tendency to do just that. She was going to be patient even if it killed her. "That's great that you're helping out Regan," she declared, latching onto the neutral subject with an overwhelming feeling of relief. "Is he feeling better?"

Jim finished his juice and put his glass in the sink. "You know Regan. He says he's back to normal but he's not there yet." He picked up his backpack by a strap and started towards the door. He had to leave now. Otherwise he was afraid that he was going to take up permanent residence in the Belden kitchen.

She furrowed her brows together, bewildered on what to do next. She didn't have a clue on how to end their time together. How could she? She didn't even know what to name the time they had experienced together. It certainly wasn't a date but it had gone well beyond two friends enjoying an evening together. It was well out of the realm of their usual get-togethers and had felt much more private, much more intimate, than anything she could ever remember experiencing with him before. Chewing on her bottom lip, anxiously wondering what she should do or say next, she walked through the back door and stood on the porch, next to him, hating the sudden silence that hung heavily between them.

The same affliction affected him. He wished he was more suave or debonair. But he didn't have a silver tongue and he certainly didn't have any available moves that he could use on her. All he had was a promise to wait until she graduated from high school before he could bring up what he wanted to. Dropping his backpack on the wooden floorboards, he stared out over the large backyard, watching the wet dew glint off the thick green grass and the puffy fog rise up from the ground, and valiantly searched for the right words, the right move, but came up with nothing.

Trixie shivered and covered her bare arms with her hands. It was the first time she had been outside during the early morning in over a week. She rocked back on her feet, glad that they were covered in comfortable socks. "Brr. I forgot how cold it can be in during the mornings," she mumbled, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

He had a way to warm her up. Inappropriate, presently unacceptable, but a very effective way indeed. Jim had wrongfully expected the remaining weeks before her graduation to be the easiest of his three-year wait. Resisting the urge to bang his head off the porch post, he admitted that he had been wrong. Seriously wrong. He would be lucky to survive the remaining time without going insane or breaking his promise. Turning to her, he went with the only available way to say goodbye. His arms encircled her in a fond embrace. The hug should have been comfortable, an easy endearment between friends. It wasn't. He held her too long, held her too firmly, and breathed in the scent of her, with his lips brushing against the side of her forehead. Even his words told the true story. "Thanks for a memorable time," he murmured quietly into her ear.

She wasn't any better at keeping secrets. Her arms came around him. She held him tighter than she ever had before and she let out a small hum of approval when she felt his lips against her skin. Her heart continued to beat fast. She thought that he should have been able to feel it against his chest. "I had a great night, too," she whispered back openly and honestly. "I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend my prom night."

The truth of her words warmed him. "I'm glad." He let go with a great reluctance. Reaching out to tug one of her curls, he watched it bounce back into place and then traced her cheek with a finger, noting that her bruise was less noticeable than it had been the night before. She would be fine. There wasn't a doubt in his mind. "Have a good day, Trix. I'll see you later," he told her hoarsely.

Trixie couldn't form words past her suddenly dry lips. She settled for a nod instead and stayed on the porch, watching him walk away until she couldn't see him any longer. Then she traced her cheek with a finger, feeling his touch again, and slowly sank down onto the porch step, finally releasing the long, satisfying sigh she had been holding onto all morning. She rested her head against the porch post, replaying her evening with Jim over and over again, as if it was the best movie she had ever watched in her life. She recalled everything, from the way she had been able to open up to him to the night she had spent in his arms on her family's old, comfortable sofa. Her evening with Jim had turned out better than her wildest dreams. There was only one thing that could make everything perfect for her. She needed to become a high school graduate.


	57. Chapter 56

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Fifty-Six

Trixie blew through the front door of the clubhouse, her face flushed with the exertion of her half-walk, half-run to the clubhouse. Although it was technically still spring, it felt like summer had decided to rear the ugly side of its head, showing its true colors with a sweltering force. It was hot, almost unbearably so, with the promise of more along the way. She wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead and closed the door behind her with a smart click. The air from the two fans felt like heaven against her sweaty skin.

Honey and Di looked up from the long table with matching smiles of welcome on their faces and a bunch of photographs on the table in front of them. "Hello, Trix!" Honey greeted her warmly. "You had said that you were going to be late so we got started without you. I hope you don't mind."

Trixie rolled her eyes and took a seat on the bench in-between the two. "I don't mind at all." She glanced down at the multitude of prom pictures with her friends and her brothers and hid a grin. "Looking at you two isn't a problem for me. You're my best friends. I don't have a problem looking at the pictures of you. Now, my brothers…" She didn't finish the thought but rolled her shoulders. "It doesn't bother me at all that you wanted to start looking through the pictures without me. Good for you!"

Di's giggles mixed with hers. "Well, I'm glad you came. Both Honey and I wanted to show you our pictures but we've somehow been able to not find the time to do that. With school, the final round of homework, papers, projects, and final exams, as well as our summer jobs starting up at the Country Club, it's been crazy trying to work in some time together so that we could hang out for a bit, just the three of us." With a wistful expression on her face, she added, "Don't get me wrong. I love being with the guys, too, but it's nice having some girl time together."

Trixie noticed Di had skipped over their counseling sessions, which they had both started two weeks earlier. She didn't bring it up, not wanting to bring a damper to their get-together, although she was relatively certain that Di had already realized how beneficial the sessions were going to be. Mart had been unnaturally tightlipped when she had prodded him about Di so she hadn't been able to gain any insight from him. She wondered if Di had been able to share it with him yet. "When are the boys supposed to get here?" she wondered aloud.

Honey glanced at her watch. "They were going for a ride and then driving in to get us dinner. I imagine we've got a while before they meet us here." She fanned out a few photos. "That has to be a good thing since I really don't think that they want to help us look at prom pictures."

"I can't imagine why." Di let out a throaty chuckle before she sighed. "We haven't done very well with keeping Sundays as our special Bob-White days. We put together the picnic at the lake a few weeks back and that's been about it. Somehow we've let our resolve fall by the way side. We're going to have to get better at it."

"We've had a few unexpected things get in our way," Honey replied drily with a pointed look at each of her friends. Taking a deep breath, she brought up the one issue they had an unspoken agreement not to discuss. "And, technically, we were all together the following Sunday after our picnic. We were just at the hospital."

Trixie pushed aside the memories of why they had spent the night in the hospital. "And the following Sunday was the day after the prom. It's no wonder no one thought to get together then, with over half of us staying out until all hours of the night." She sent them a playful wink and added, "Brian and Mart slept in. I didn't even talk to either of you that day."

Di had enjoyed a long, leisurely Sunday morning. She hadn't climbed out of her bed until well past noon. Clearing her throat, she wondered, "What happened last Sunday and the Sunday before that? I don't remember anyone being in the hospital or a prom going on. It seems to me that they were both pretty normal weekends."

Honey and Trixie looked at each other. "I'd have to say that everyone forgot," Honey finally admitted slowly. She knew she had forgotten their resolve to keep part of their Sundays exclusively opened for Bob-Whites only. The two recent weekends had been a very busy for the girls. "We had started working and there was school, of course. We didn't bring it up to the boys either, which means that they forgot about it, too."

"We definitely forgot," Trixie chimed in, thinking back to her first full weekend of work with a grimace. Dr. Ferris hadn't okayed her for her lifeguarding responsibilities. The Country Club had found a very dependable replacement for her, at her suggestion. Brian seemed to have enjoyed his weekends of working next to Honey at the pool and was excited to have a summer job. She had been relegated to working the front desk with Di. Although she would have liked something more active than answering phones and dealing with the well-meaning, if slightly dim-witted, public, she wasn't too upset over her change in position at the Country Club. She was grateful to have a job and a paycheck at the end of each week. The money would serve her well during her first year of college. "Honey and I figured it out on the car ride into school last Monday. That's why we were insistent on planning something for this Sunday. We don't want it to become a habit, especially when it was our intention all along for the Bob-Whites to continue to meet as a group. Five weeks have already gone past since our last, official get-together and Brian wasn't even home for that one!"

"It was awfully easy to forget to arrange something," Di noted with a frown. "We are rather busy right now."

"I'm amazed that all of us were able to pull the early shift today at the club. That certainly helps." Honey remarked cheerfully. As much as she would have liked to have reclined next to Trixie on the lifeguard chair all summer long at the pool, she had to admit that it was a different type of enjoyment and pleasure at having the dark-haired Belden take her friend's place. She wasn't complaining. "We probably wouldn't have been able to manage a dinner, even a simple pizza dinner, without that."

"I know. It's nice of the boys to supply the food for us." Di picked up a picture of the two couples taken in the Wheeler garden and sighed. "This is a great picture, Honey!"

"It wouldn't have been a great picture if my mother had taken it," Honey replied truthfully. She tried not to stare too hard at Brian. She was doing her best not to let it bother her that there were still eight days until they could have their 'good' talk. It was becoming harder and harder, especially since she had spent the past two weekends sitting next to him at the pool. She had guarded her secret, had not told anyone about their kiss, even her two best friends in the entire world, and fervently wished that she had pushed the issue harder with Brian when she had the chance. She needed to know why they had to wait until her graduation day to discuss whatever it was that he wanted to talk with her about. Even though graduation was just around the corner, she was on pins and needles, anxious to find out why he had promised that their talk would be 'good.'

"This is the first time I've seen any pictures from the prom," Trixie remarked, breaking into Honey's thoughts, and holding a picture of a smiling Di and Mart in her hands. Di looked beyond gorgeous in her long dusty rose dress and her dark hair swept off of her face. In the spirit of generosity, Trixie admitted that Mart didn't look as goofy as she normally thought he did. He looked downright handsome but she wasn't going to say that out loud. "We really have been too busy. I can't believe that one of you hasn't forced me to look through your prom pictures before now!"

Di rolled her violet eyes at Trixie. "With our last round of homework, papers, projects, and then studying for final exams, I guess you're right. At least we're taking the time to do it now." She breathed out slowly and added, "I mean, we get to graduate this Wednesday. Can you believe it? It seemed to take forever to get here and now, we only have three more days to go!"

"I have my toughest final on Tuesday morning," Honey put in mournfully. "Then it should be clear sailing for me. We have graduation practice on Wednesday morning and then it's time for the big show. I, for one, can't wait until it's time to graduate. I'll certainly miss high school but I'm more than ready for the summer." Honey released a deep sigh, hoping that her most cherished dream was finally going to come true.

Trixie bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep from exploding out with why she was more than anxious for their graduation day to get there. Jim at Ten Acres. She could hardly stand the wait any longer. "It's not that bad, I guess," she mumbled out. "We've waited this long. Another three days isn't going to kill us." But it could, quite possibly. She glanced at the little calendar on the wall, wishing that she could turn the clock forward and have it be Wednesday evening instead. Then she would know.

Di flicked back her dark hair and proclaimed, "I'm with Honey. My two hardest finals are on Tuesday. I couldn't get any luckier. Both of them had to be on the same day and on the last full day of school. Lucky, lucky me," she declared sarcastically.

Honey reached over and covered Di's hand with one of hers, squeezing it reassuringly. "Concentrate on your pictures, Di. That'll help. It won't be long until our finals are completely finished." Wanting to get Di's mind off of her present course, she picked up a photo album and handed it to Trixie. "This is for your parents. We combined our pictures and added them in before you got here."

A smile tugged at her lips. The picture of her brothers and her two best friends staring back at her was very sweet. She traced the swirls on the leather front and placed it off to the side. "They'll love it," she assured them quietly. "I'll make sure that I give it to them once I get home."

Di reached up and touched her forehead, a move she had been doing unconsciously ever since her bruise had faded away. There wasn't any other outward sign left of her time in the woods. The memories had made their way inside, burrowing their way into her heart and her soul, but she was starting to learn how to deal with it. It was the awful feeling of guilt that she had a hard time dispelling. She glanced at the reason why she felt so guilty from underneath thickly-veiled lashes. No matter how Trixie had declared that it wasn't her fault, Di was having trouble dealing with it. It would take a while for her to come to accepting it all.

Trixie caught what Di had done and consciously copied her, touching her own face for the battle marks that were no longer there. Her face was completely back to normal, too. No bruising, no scratches, no tender spots; nothing remained. She didn't mind looking in the mirror again. Taking a deep breath, she hesitated but then brought up the subject, unsure how Di would respond to it. "You look great, Di. You're completely healed."

Di's hand halted in its downward slope. She laid it on the table and corrected her friend carefully, "Not completely, Trix." Her smile wasn't one of happiness or delight. It was tinged with a hint of sadness. "I'm working on it, though."

"Me, too." Trixie understood, including Honey in her encompassing look. Honey may not have gone through the experience with them but she was a valued friend. Trixie didn't want to shut her out. "My ribs don't hurt that much; hardly at all anymore. They're still a little sore when I move too quickly but I think it'll be all right for me to start riding again soon. I've missed Susie and the rest of the horses terribly. I have one last visit scheduled with Dr. Ferris at the end of the week. He'll let me know then when I'm able to resume all of my normal activities."

Honey glanced from one friend to the other. Part of her was glad that they had opened up the subject. The other part of her wanted them to lock it up and throw away the key, never to revisit the horrible time again. It even had the power to give her nightmares and she hadn't been an integral part of it. She could only imagine how it had affected her two best friends. She sat back and waited patiently with watchful eyes, thankful that her friends were allowing her a glimpse into their private turmoil.

Di nervously traced a picture of Mart. Other than her counselor, she hadn't opened up to anyone about her experience with Britten. Mart didn't pry. He seemed to understand that she didn't want to discuss it with him. Her parents didn't bring it up at all; although they did watch her extremely carefully. And Honey and Trixie had been as busy as she had been with the ending of their senior year. She was surprised to find out that talking about it didn't smother her the way that she thought it would. It was having the opposite effect. It was starting to liberate her. "I'm actually sleeping much better, Trix. I don't always see his face or hear his voice anymore. His hold is starting to fade away. It really is." She didn't share that her skin still crawled at times when she remembered how he had tried to touch her or when she recalled what his true intention had been towards her.

Trixie remembered, more than she wanted to admit, more often than she cared to. She despised allowing herself to be weak. Giving in to the memories was a sign of it, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that it wasn't. It was difficult for her to block out the monstrous way he had looked at her, with those fake blue eyes gleaming with hatred and murder. What turned out to help her more than anything else was thinking about the night she had spent with Jim. She would visualize his arms around her and then the nightmare would stop. That one simple night of falling asleep with Jim by her side had given her the power she needed to fight back and to not give in to him. Her counselor had advised her to focus on Jim whenever the memories came back at her. She hadn't found it a hardship to do that. He was more of an anchor for her than she had ever realized. "Yeah. I agree with you, Di. It can't be too much longer before the nightmares fade away, too."

Honey studied each girl closely, pleased with what she saw. Neither seemed hesitant or secretive. They were both open to discuss it. She caught a strain of embarrassment in each, a little stronger in Trixie than in Di, but she wasn't surprised about that. Trixie didn't like giving in. Honey nodded her head once, glad that they were able to talk about what had happened and that they were each starting to put it behind them and move on. Well aware of Di's sensitive nature, she guessed at the wealth of guilt she was carrying around.

"Enough of this depressing talk," Di announced suddenly, breaking into the reflective silence that had come over the group. "I think it's time to put what happened behind us as much as we can. Don't you, Trix?"

"You've got that right," Trixie muttered under her breath. She was on the path to recovery. "I'm in complete agreement with you, Di. I want everything to get back to normal."

"You mean what passes for normal in our neck of the woods," Honey put in, hoping to help lighten the mood. "There's nothing quite like being a Bob-White or belonging to our club. Somehow we always find ourselves in the most amazing adventures." She put an arm around Trixie, lifted an eyebrow, and stared at Di. "I can't imagine who gets us embroiled into such adventures," she said dryly.

"It's hard to figure that one out, all right," Di replied in an equally dry tone. She cleared her throat and called attention back to herself. "You'll never guess what my father has set up for us once we go to college in the fall!"

Trixie tilted her head to the side, interested. "What's that, Di?"

"With everything that has happened, plus with you two and the way you always get yourselves into some mighty tight spots, my dad has decided that we should all have self-defense lessons. He wants us to be prepared for any situation that we could possibly find ourselves in. He's already bought us each a membership to the closest gym near our dorm and has set up our first class for us, right after school starts up in the fall. We're going to learn how to kick some serious butt." She fell back against her chair, gleaming triumphantly.

"That's wonderful!" Honey exclaimed happily. Self-defense classes would come in very handy. She eyed Trixie and thought back to many of the perilous adventures they had experienced together, as well as their plans to study criminal justice and open their own detective agency. Learning how to defend themselves would be extremely helpful.

As intrigued as she was by the notion, Trixie opened her mouth, ready to decline the gift, when Di held up her hand to stop her. "Trixie Belden!" she declared forcefully and slammed a hand on the top of the table, making the pictures jump with the force behind it. She wagged a finger at her. "I can see what you're going to say. You can just stop it right now. You're not allowed to refuse it. My dad has already talked to your parents about it. It's a gift from my family to you. After all, whether you want to admit it or not, you saved me that night. So, all you need to do is use your manners. Say thank you and accept it." She crossed her arms over her chest and stared Trixie down hard, with one eyebrow lifted and a no-nonsense look on her face.

Trixie ended up dissolving into a fit of delighted giggles. Di didn't indulge in acts of huffiness that often but, when she did, she knew better than to fight it. "All right, all right, Di!" she gave in gracefully after she caught her breath from laughing so hard and threw her hands up in the air. "I give in. I'll say thank you and I look forward to attending the self-defense classes with you. Taking the classes will be a lot of fun."

Di winked and slid an eye towards Honey, her unsuspecting victim. "Now, Trix, you're the detective here. I need a little help from you. You see, I've got this friend. You may know her." She grinned when Honey started to blush a fiery red. "I've been trying for weeks now to get this friend to tell me what happened after we dropped her and her prom date off at her house the other night but she refuses to tell me. All she does is turn bright red, like she's doing right now, and then she hastily changes the subject." Propping her chin in her hands, she added, "It doesn't take a licensed detective to figure out that something happened. Something big. Care to help me figure out what it was?"

Trixie chewed on her bottom lip and crinkled her nose. Honey and her eldest brother…she didn't want to know. It was a mystery she didn't mind leaving untouched. "I think I'll let Honey keep this secret," she mumbled under her breath.

Di nudged her. "No, you won't!" she insisted loudly, slanting another glance towards Honey who was picking up pictures and putting them off to the side, trying her best to ignore them. "Forget that her date was your brother for a moment and remember that Honey, your best friend, is keeping a secret from you. I think we deserve to find out what that secret is."

Honey let her hair fall in front of her face to curtain them off and concentrated on breathing. She grabbed a random picture from the stack on the table, hoping to distract Di and bring the attention away from her. "This is a nice one!" she got out overly brightly, her smile crooked and nervous.

"Look closer, Honey." Di suggested helpfully and lifted her eyebrows in disbelief. "If you do, you would see that my mother managed to cut off Mart's head. I don't think it's all that nice at all, Honey. I rather like a Mart with his head on his shoulders."

"She is trying to change the subject," Trixie noted, grinning widely at her friends, and getting into the spirit of the teasing. It was nice to be on the giving end of it for once, instead of receiving it. "I still don't think I really want to know why she's avoiding your question, Di, but I do have to admit that I am suddenly very curious. Something did happen. Honey's never been that good at keeping a secret."

"Uggh!" burst out of Honey. Hands on her hips, she glared at them as fiercely as she could. "You're not going to leave this alone, are you?"

"Nope," Trixie and Di answered simultaneously.

"Fine." Honey rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. She didn't look at either of them before reluctantly admitting, "He kissed me. I'm not sure if he meant to because he looked as surprised as I felt but he really kissed me the night of the prom."

"Brian? My brother? Mr. I-Move-Slower-Than-Molasses Belden?" Trixie dropped back against her chair, stunned that her older brother would have done something so progressive and romantic. "You have got to be kidding me."

"She's not kidding." Di threw her arms around Honey and hugged her tightly. "I shouldn't say this in front of their sister but, if Brian kisses anything like Mart, then you're a very lucky lady, indeed, Honey."

A gagging noise could be heard from Trixie. "I was right. I was right. I didn't want to hear any of this." She covered her ears with a comically pained expression on her face. "No more. No more, you two. I beg you to stop."

"I'm not going to go into details on the kiss," Honey assured Trixie quickly. "It's the after part that I wonder about."

Di let go, instantly concerned. "What do you mean, Honey?"

"I don't know if I should be happy or if I should feel like the biggest fool on this earth." Honey fluttered her hands in front of her and released a small, helpless laugh. "You see, Brian didn't want to talk about it and he certainly hasn't tried to kiss me since. I've hardly seen him since the prom other than at work. Then he's cordial, of course. I can't imagine Brian being anything else but nice. That night he told me that he wants to talk to me. I assume he wants to talk to be about our kiss but he says he can't say anything else." She blew out a breath, realizing how insane she sounded, and added, "He can't talk to me about it until June 20."

Honey wasn't crazy. Trixie understood what she was saying. "Graduation day," she murmured under her breath, aware of why her brother wanted that specific day. She stared at the ceiling. It had been a struggle to keep her knowledge of Brian, Jim, their promise, and their parents' collective interference a secret from Honey. She hadn't wanted to tell Honey, in case Brian didn't have any intentions of asking her to be his girlfriend. She would have felt absolutely awful if she had been responsible for raising Honey's hopes only to have her brother dash them but, hearing that Brian had kissed her and wanted to talk about after he had fulfilled his promise, made her see it in a different light. Honey deserved to know. "Honey," she began solemnly.

Di covered her mouth, trying to keep the giggles from spilling out. "I know, I know! I know what you're going to say, Trix!" she exclaimed excitedly, bouncing up and down in her seat, and clapped her hands together. "Trixie, I already know! Mart told me! Isn't it wonderful?"

Trixie stared at Di incredulously. Mart would be a sieve of information from now on. She shouldn't be surprised. Anything he learned would most certainly go to the pretty ears of Diana Lynch. She bit back a nervous giggle. "Honey still doesn't know, Di."

"The way I hear it she may be the last Bob-White to find out," Di responded quickly. "Apparently Jim told Dan about it sometime ago. Brian, of course, told Mart, who tried to share it with Dan but Dan already knew about it. From Jim. But I think I'm digressing. Anyway, it goes without saying that Mart told me." She slanted a glance at Trixie. "He didn't think that you knew about it. I shouldn't be surprised that you found out, though. You are Trixie Belden, after all, but how on earth did you find out? Did Jim tell you?"

Honey broke in, confusion painted on her pretty face. "What are you two talking about?" She glared at each of them, thoroughly lost and confused, and wondering how her revelation that Brian had kissed her had brought their conversation off on such an unusual tangent. "I swear, if either of you don't tell me what's going on right this very minute, I'm going to scream so loud that all of the inhabitants on Glen Road will be here within minutes to find out what happened."

Di deferred to Trixie. "This involves you more than me. Why don't you do the honors?" She whispered loudly, still at a loss as to how she had managed to find out about the promise each had given their parents, "And don't forget to share how you found out. I'm extremely curious about that one now."

Trixie took a deep breath before taking the plunge. She kept her eyes on Honey and prayed that she was doing the right thing. "I overheard an interesting conversation between Brian and Mart when they came home the night of the prom. They thought I was sleeping but I wasn't. Reddy had started barking when they came into the kitchen. He woke me up." She didn't add any more to that part of her explanation, not wanting to give them any more fodder for teasing her. If they found out that she had fallen asleep with Jim on the sofa, the repercussions would be horrendous. She wouldn't get a moment's peace from either of them. "It was a very interesting conversation, Honey."

Her earlier annoyance forgotten, Honey idly fiddled with a picture of Brian standing in her family's garden. "I think I would like to hear what this conversation was about."

Trixie could feel her face burn with embarrassment. Never one to find it easy to disclose personal information about herself, even with the two girls she considered the sisters of her heart, she suddenly found the wooden table very interesting and traced a knick that had been put in it a long time ago. She stumbled through the explanation, going as quickly as she could to get it over with, "Well, it turns out that our parents didn't want Jim and Brian to date us when we were in high school. They made them promise they wouldn't ask us out until we graduated from high school."

"Wait. What?" The picture fell from her fingers. Honey's face had drained of all color while she contemplated what Trixie had just told her.

"Brian and Jim wanted to date you, like boyfriends and girlfriends do, but they couldn't!" Di exclaimed with a happiness that had Trixie and Honey staring at her oddly. "They can't ask you, not for three more days," she added elatedly. "June 20, girls. Sounds like a good day to me."

Honey shook her head, trying to clear away her thoughts, and then looked from Trixie to Di. A secret smile slid across her lips while she remembered their kiss. She hadn't wanted to give in to any doubts. She hadn't wanted to second guess Brian or his intentions. But he had given her such little to go on. He had asked for her trust, had promised her a 'good' talk, and a chance to speak with her after her graduation. It was all becoming clearer to her now, making her ride a wave of anticipation that was both thrilling and scary at the same time. "That may be what Brian wants to talk to me about," she breathed out slowly.

"I would think so, especially if he's already kissed you." Di beamed at them, making plans for the other couples in her mind. Now if only they could find a nice girl for Dan...then everything would be complete. "Imagine, ladies. We're going to have three Bob-White couples before the summer even starts. I can't think of anything better than that."

Honey swallowed hard and looked over Trixie to Di. Wanting to put someone else in the limelight, thinking that it was Trixie's turn, she mentioned idly, "We still haven't heard how, exactly, Trixie came to learn her astonishing information. I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that Trixie found herself in a very interesting position on our prom night?" She contemplated her blonde-haired friend who was turning an amazing shade of red. Biting on her bottom lip to keep her smile from spreading, she questioned Di with sham seriousness, "Did Mart happen to tell you where my brother spent our prom night? Or the fact that he didn't come home until the following morning?" She tapped her finger against her chin, waiting for her answer.

He had. Of course, he had, but Di didn't let on. There was nothing quite like teasing Trixie, especially when it was about Jim. "Why, no," she answered with exaggerated cheerfulness, all the while keeping her violet eyes on her new prey. Running her fingers on the top of the wooden table, she mentioned with a tilt of her head, "He seemed to have forgotten about that. I'll have to talk to Mart about that when I see him later. Would you care to enlighten me, Miss Wheeler?"

Trixie dropped her eyes and absently picked at a nonexistent piece of lint on her soft light yellow cotton shirt but she couldn't think of anything that would have brought her out of the spotlight. She was stuck until her friends let her go. Judging from the expressions on their faces, it wasn't going to be for a long time, she realized with a loud groan.

"I would be glad to, Miss Lynch!" Honey released a low, soft laugh. "It turns out that my brother spent the night at the Belden household. It seems he fell asleep on that extremely comfortable sofa in the den while he was watching a movie. I think it was _A Few Good Men_," she added, intentionally keeping back the most delectable bit of information.

"That's a very good movie. I like it myself." Di pretended to consider the information. Nodding her head, she announced, "You know, now that you mention it, I seem to remember Mart telling me something to me about that. Yes, he most certainly did. But it seems to me that you are missing a vital piece, Honey. The explanation won't be complete unless you add in that one, oh-so-important, tidbit."

She knew, too. Jim had unintentionally let it slip when she had caught him going into his room that morning. She had investigated the noise out the hall, not expecting to see her brother clad in the same clothes he had left the house in the night before. She had asked him where he had been. He had fumbled, turned beet red, which was unusual for her normally calm and sedate brother, and had mumbled something out about sleep, the sofa, a movie, and Trixie. It had been adorable to see, as well as highly amusing. "Please, do tell me. I wouldn't want to get it wrong."

Trixie muttered something unintelligible under her breath, an unpleasant scowl on her face, while she waited for Di to tell the last bit. Thinking about the night had the power to render her speechless but it was hard to focus on the pleasures of it when faced with her two best friends. She scrunched her face up and flinched, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"From what I understand, and this is from Mart, who had an eye-witness account, so you can't discount what he said at all," Di added in a comically loud stage whisper, "Jim was very comfortably laid out on the sofa with the youngest female in the house right next to him. Can you believe it?"

"Really?" Honey drew the word out, a smile dancing across her lips while she watched Trixie's face turn the brightest red it had ever been. "Jim and Trixie were _sleeping together_ on the sofa?" she questioned, her eyes as large and as innocent as she could make them while she fought a smile on her lips, well aware of the two different ways her question could be interpreted.

"Sleeping! We were sleeping!" Trixie broke in forcefully, ignoring the rather sensual images that Honey's deceptively innocent words had conjured up in her mind. She would think about that later, much later, when she was all alone. Having a fantasy with her friends looking on wasn't her idea of an enjoyable way to spend her time. "We fell asleep, Honey, on the sofa, while we were watching a movie. That's all. Nothing happened. That's when I heard Brian tell Mart about our parents and the promise. They thought I was asleep."

"I'll let you off the hook, Trixie." Honey laughed again and gave in. She dropped an arm over Trixie's shoulder and squeezed her tightly. "You're a good sport, Trixie Belden. We were just teasing you."

Trixie shuddered. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. Let's drop it, okay?" She studied both of them out of the corner of her eyes and proclaimed fiercely, "And no more talk about my brothers, either." She wasn't sure what was worse: being teased about her feelings for Jim or thinking about her brothers and her two best friends together. In her opinion it was a toss-up.

Di got her giggles under control and leaned forward. She carefully collected her pictures and put them into a neat pile. "Yes, Trix. That sounds good. We'll table the boy talk for now. Although I'm positive we'll have much more to talk about very, very soon."

Honey sat back on the bench. She stared at the door the rest of the members would be coming through soon with their dinner of take-out pizza, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Does Jim have any plans to meet with you after graduation?" she asked Trixie seriously.

"Yeah," she answered quickly. "We haven't set a time but he asked me to meet him up at Ten Acres after graduation. He wants to talk to me about...something," she finished lamely. It was difficult for her to keep her thoughts grounded. She was trying hard not to be too confident, just in case she was wrong about what Jim wanted to talk to her about, and yet, she couldn't deny the tiny kernel of hope and anticipation that continued to grow and flourish each day, despite her best intentions to not let her fantasy get the better of her. It was a battle she was steadily losing each day.

"Everything's turning out perfectly perfect!" Honey declared after a moment. She got up and took off the calendar that had been pinned to the wall. Her finger traced the day that Di had circled in purple months ago. "I only wish that our graduation day was already here." Turning back at her friends with a twinkle in her hazel eyes that had absolutely nothing to do with receiving her diploma, she shared, "It's going to be so hard to wait."

Trixie sat back in her chair, watching them collect the rest of the pictures and put them away. Between studying for finals, taking the exams, and then working all weekend, she hoped the time would go by even faster. She had been unconsciously waiting for the day for three years. As she stared at the animated faces of her chattering friends, she realized that she wouldn't have traded her high school experience for the world, even without a steady boyfriend in the picture. Sharing it with Honey and Di had been well worth it. Their friendship was strong. She knew it would continue through their years at college, too. But the thought of what was potentially shining on the horizon for her, only three days out of her reach, made her slightly breathless and brought a tingly flutter to her stomach. Three days left. If only she could make it that long.

Author's Note:

My time frame is a little off in the previous chapters…I'll need to go back and fix it. If you've caught the time frame mix-up, good for you! It turns out I've been two days off in the countdown. Don't worry…I'll get it fixed at some point in the near future! Have a great day!


	58. Chapter 57

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Trixie studied herself in her dresser mirror, a small frown on her face. She leaned in closer in search of any flaws and then shrugged her shoulders. Her reflection looked the same as it did every day. To her, there wasn't anything special staring back. Untamable blonde curls. A pert nose speckled with freckles. Blue, blue eyes. High cheekbones, pink lips, and a few more freckles decorating her cheeks. Sighing, she decided there wasn't anything she could do about the faults she perceived to be there. Turning away from the mirror, she picked up the new dress that lay on her bed and inspected it carefully. It was her favored blue, a deep, brilliant Caribbean blue, and was made out of some soft, floaty material she couldn't and didn't want to identify. She had been more than content to wear one of her old dresses for her graduation but Helen Belden wouldn't hear of it. Her mother had presented her with the dress the day before. Deciding it was now or never, she slipped it over her head and had to contort her body to zip it up. Then she smoothed a hand over the skirt which stopped short at her knees. Forgoing stockings because of the heat, she leaned forward and frowned into the mirror again, wondering what on earth she was going to do with the mass of yellow curls wreathing the top of her head. She brought her hands up and attempted to control them with a plain brown headband but scowled at the results. Even to someone who didn't pay much attention to fashion or hairstyles, it didn't look right.

Helen padded quietly to the door and called her daughter's name. When she didn't get a response, she pushed the half-opened door further and entered the room cautiously. "Trixie?" she called out again, a small box in her hand. "Are you ready?"

Trixie turned to the doorway, the headband in her hands, and smiled a greeting at her mother. "Hi, Moms. No, I'm not ready yet. I was just trying to do something with my hair." Her hands fisted in the curls again. She laughed derisively at herself and rolled her eyes upwards. "Surprise, surprise, but I seem to be losing the battle. You would think I would be used to the curse of the curls by now. I've only been dealing with them on a daily basis for eighteen years."

Helen recognized the nerves behind Trixie's sarcastic speech and rushed over. After placing the box on the dresser, she captured her daughter's edgy hands and tucked them down by her side. "Don't worry. I had a feeling you would be complaining about your hair. I think I have the right remedy. Let me help you, Trix," she murmured soothingly. She opened the small box and took out a silver hair pin adorned with a light blue crystal at the end of it. The sunlight streaming in from the windows glinted off the blue crystal, making it momentarily shine with a sparkling brilliance before Helen put held it out in front of Trixie's face. "This was the best I could do. Somehow I didn't think that the lovely butterfly or heart-shaped pins that Crimper's offered would have suited you as well. They are nice but a little too clichéd for you. Now if they had made pins with horses or bob-whites on it," she stated with a humorous glint to her eyes, "that would have been a different story indeed. I think you would have loved one of those."

Trixie studied the pin with the circle-shaped crystal and smiled. She liked the symbolism of the shape. As her mother had said, it suited her much better than the other available shapes would have. The circle was always moving, with no beginning or ending to it, and no break in its one clear circular line. A strong shape. She pressed a quick kiss to her mother's cheek before saying, "I love it, Moms. I couldn't have picked out a better one myself."

"I'll take care of putting them in your hair." Helen gently took a curl off of her forehead and twisted it back to the side of her head. Then she expertly used the hair pin to clip it back. After studying it intently, deciding that it passed her close inspection, she did the same thing on the other side of Trixie's head. It was a very simple hairstyle but it served her well. The curls were off of her face and it made her look more mature, more grown-up, and even more lovely. "It's been a long time since I've played with your hair," Helen noted softly with a wistful tone to her voice. She couldn't remember the last time Trixie had allowed her to touch the curls. It had been years upon years ago. As a self-proclaimed tomboy at a young age, Trixie hadn't acquired the patience to let her mother work with her hair.

"If you remember correctly I wasn't that good of a patient," Trixie responded truthfully and without a hint of regret to her voice. "I never liked having anyone fix my hair. Too many curls, too many snarls, too much tugging. You know I can't stand having anyone attempt to do anything with it. I don't have the patience for it. I don't like anyone to touch them."

Except Jim. Trixie never seemed to mind when Jim tugged on her curls but Helen kept that thought to herself. Inspired by the thought, she pulled one of the curls at the back and watch it spring back into its normal shape. It was oddly enjoyable. "When I think of all those ladies at the beauty salon who pay top dollar to achieve the curls you were naturally born with…" She let out a long-suffering sigh.

"I'd give them the curls to them for free if they wouldn't grow back," Trixie retorted impishly. Then she whirled around, sending the curls bouncing, and gave her mother another kiss and a tight hug. "Thanks, Moms. I appreciate it. I was about ready to pull my hair out by the roots."

Helen swallowed back a sob, not ready to give in to the emotion of the evening, and told herself to enjoy the embrace from her only daughter. Her lips pulled down into a frown while she thought that she should be immune to graduation ceremonies since she had already survived not one but two, but, as she caught a look of the two of them silhouetted in the mirror, she realized she was just as emotional as she had been for Brian's and then for Mart's. Blinking back a few tears, she stepped back and said hoarsely, "Let me get a good look at my girl. I need to see what you look like."

Hiding a groan, Trixie ran her hands over the blue of her dress, doing her best to stand patiently while her mother looked her over with a sharp eye. She thought she knew what her mother would see. Only a girl, short in stature, barefoot, with tanned arms and legs showing, clad in a simple blue dress. What she didn't realize was how the material of the A-line dress flattered her figure because it didn't hug its every curve. It should have been modest, would have been demure if she hadn't developed a nice set of curves over the past two years, but, instead, it was unintentionally sexy, even more so because the wearer was completely oblivious to it all. When her mother didn't say anything, she lifted her eyebrows and prodded, "Will I pass inspection, Moms?"

Helen saw the true Trixie and hid her own bittersweet sigh. Her little girl had definitely grown up, seemingly right before her very eyes. She had a strong belief that her daughter was going to blow Jim away when he saw her for the first time. "You look stunning, Trixie," she replied sincerely.

She doubted if she could ever pass for stunning but didn't call her mother on it. She lifted the locket Mr. Carver had given her in Virginia from her dresser. A small picture of Jim was hidden inside. She clasped it around her neck. Then she slipped her feet into her leather sandals. No heels for her. "I think I'm just about ready to go. Is it time yet?" She craned her neck to find the numbers on her alarm clock, surprised to find out that they had nearly an hour before she had to be arrive at the high school.

"We've got plenty of time. Why don't you sit with me for a minute?" Helen took her hand and pulled Trixie down to sit on the edge of the bed next to her. "There are a few things I would like to discuss with you before we head out for the evening."

Trixie tilted her head, catching the fact that there was something else behind the normal emotions that came with graduation day stemming from her mother's invitation to talk. For once, she hid her impatience, almost dreading what her mother was going to say, and hesitatingly inquired, "What do you want to talk about, Moms?"

"You are so like me when I was your age," Helen got out with an anxious giggle that Trixie had never heard from her before. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and ran through the best way to open up a subject that filled her with motherly trepidation. "You probably have never realized it but you get your impetuousness and your curiosity from me."

"I find that hard to believe." Trixie had to stifle the urge to snort. She stared her mother up and down, noting how put together and elegant she was, no matter what the time of day it was, and then looked down at herself. Never one to have that much self-confidence in her looks, Trixie raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You'll have to do better than that, Moms."

Helen barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She understood Trixie better than she thought. The fact that she wasn't as confident stemmed from her fateful placement after two strong-willed brothers and before the baby boy of the family. While she was headstrong, impulsive, brave, and appeared to have a backbone of steel, Helen knew of the softer core that was hidden inside her daughter. Developing a thick skin had been a necessity for Trixie, especially with Mart as her older brother. "It's true, dear. You are a lot like me; more so than you know. I may not have had the ability to solve baffling mysteries at the drop of a hat," she couldn't resist adding in with a deep chuckle. "But many of your other traits come from me."

Trixie absently picked at the fringed edges of blanket, holding onto it and slanting a puzzled glance her way. It wasn't how she pictured her competent mother. "That doesn't make much sense, Moms."

"I had to learn to channel it," Helen explained pointedly. "Pretty quickly, actually. It wasn't soon after I married your father that I found myself knee-deep in babies." She smiled at the image her words conjured up. As hectic as those early years had been, she wouldn't trade them for the world. She would give just about anything to go back for the chance to relive one of them. Any day. It wouldn't matter which one.

Trixie shuddered at the thought of the responsibilities that came with parenthood. She couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like or how her mother had managed to raise a preschooler, a toddler, and an infant at the same time, with the promise of Bobby twinkling in the distance. It sounded like the worst possible scenario for her. "You are a terrific mother," she declared forcefully. "The best ever. You have to know that. We all think so."

"I certainly hope all of you always think that." Helen sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. At least this was the only time she would be responsible for 'the talk.' As a man, Peter had been responsible for explaining the inner intricacies of life to Brian and Mart. Bobby was also on his agenda. She only had to worry about Trixie. Staring at her unsuspecting daughter, she understood why Peter had needed a stiff drink after each of his talks. She briefly wondered what the Wheelers would be serving at the graduation party later on.

"Oh, I will. There's no doubt in my mind about that. You are the very best." Trixie played with the locket, unconsciously moving it up and down the thin chain, and glanced at the time out of the corner of her eye. It was hard for her to concentrate but she managed to curb the impulse to hasten their departure from the house.

"Are you excited about the party the Wheelers are hosting tonight?" Helen chewed off the remaining of her recently applied lipstick and stared down at the floor. Hard. Her prepared speech had flown out the window the second she had entered the room. She couldn't recall a single word of it, other than the ending.

"It's going to be a lot of fun. How could it not? We'll all be there. So will the rest of the Bob-Whites. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler have invited many of our friends, too." The guest list included many of the people who had been instrumental in the lives of the Bob-Whites over the years, including Regan, Mr. Maypenny, Tom, Celia, Miss Trask, Mrs. Elliott, Spider and Tad Webster, Old Brom and Mrs. Vanderpoel, and many others. Mr. Lytell was absent from the list. Trixie hadn't felt bad when she found out he hadn't been invited. "We'll head there shortly after the graduation ceremony."

"You mean you'll wait for your phone call from Aunt Alicia, then you'll head over to the Manor House," Helen clarified for her. Alicia hadn't been able to make it to the graduation ceremony since it fell during the middle of the week. She had promised to call at eight-thirty and expected Trixie to be home at the appointed time.

Trixie felt a slight blush tinge her cheeks that had nothing to do with her phone call. "Actually, I'm supposed to stop by Ten Acres before going up to the party," she admitted quietly, not meeting her mother's eyes.

The relief she felt was immense. The subject had been opened up and she hadn't had to force it or conjure up a way to bring up a certain redheaded neighbor. "Why are you stopping by Ten Acres?" she questioned even though she had already figured out the answer.

"Jim wants to meet me there. He asked me yesterday if it would be all right to meet him at Ten Acres after we got back from the ceremony." The slight flush continued to grow and flourish under her mother's watchful eyes. "I remembered that I couldn't leave our house until after I talked to Aunt Alicia since she wasn't able to come to the graduation. I told him that. He said that was fine so I'm planning on going up there after the phone call." She knew she was prattling on incessantly but couldn't stop herself and blamed it on a sudden case of nerves.

Helen asked the question as casually as she could. "What does Jim want to talk to you about?" Her fingers gripped the edge of the bed while she mentally calculated the best way to use Trixie's innocent admission to her advantage.

"I'm not sure, actually." Trixie told herself it wasn't exactly a lie. She wouldn't know what Jim wanted to discuss with her until he actually did it. While she hoped and prayed for what she wanted to be the subject of their meeting and she was close to almost expecting it after the conversation she had overheard the other night between her two brothers, she wouldn't be one hundred percent certain until it was over. Even then she would find it hard to believe. Only Jim would be able to dispel her fears.

"Hmm," Helen murmured non-commitedly and tried a different tact. "Do you have any idea why he wants to meet with you?"

It was Trixie's turn to glance nervously down. "He, uh, invited me to meet him up there during that Saturday night a few weeks back when we watched movies together." She didn't tell her mother that Jim was supposed to tell her why Dan had been annoying him. She definitely didn't share the fact that she believed it had something to do with the promise he had made his parents shortly after his high school graduation. "He wants to talk to me about something. Really, I'm not sure what it could be." She released a small, panicky giggle.

It was unlike her girl to giggle, especially with such an edge to it. Helen watched Trixie closely. She couldn't help but see the guilty look to her face, the way she kept her eyes trained on the floor, the heightened color, and the way her feet kept swinging nervously. There was only one reason why she would act so unusual. "You know," Helen concluded after a brief moment. "Of course you know. I don't know why I'm surprised. I mean, I shouldn't be. Ferreting out information is one of the things that you do best. But I'm still surprised that you know."

Trixie caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She didn't need to ask her mother for clarification. "Yeah. I know. I overheard Brian tell Mart a while back. I didn't tell them that I know, though." She hesitated before saying, "I definitely didn't tell Jim about it. I couldn't let on that I know about it. But, well, I did mention it to Di and Honey. Oh, and I think Dan knows about it, too."

"All the Bob-Whites know." Frowning, Helen sat back with a humph and crossed her arms over her chest. Part of what she needed to say became the tiniest bit easier. She tilted her head to the side and asked, "How do you feel about it, Trixie?"

"Part of me was a little angry when I found out," Trixie shared without reserve. She grinned at her mother's understanding nod. "You know me. I'm not the kind to take something like that easily. I don't like having plans made for me. I never have and I never will. That's just part of who I am."

"Don't we know it," Helen said under her breath. She wouldn't trade it for the world. "I have to congratulate you. You hid it well, though, dear. Your father and I had absolutely no idea that you knew about our decision and the promise Jim made to his parents already."

"I couldn't stay angry with you or Dad. If I had found out about it a year or two ago, I would have probably gone through the roof. Maybe I'm getting less emotional as I get older or maybe it's the simple fact that I discovered your decision so close to graduation." She rolled a bare shoulder, deciding she hadn't been able to stay mad because the time limit had been so close to expiring. It would have been useless to remain angry. "For whatever the reason, I let go of my anger pretty quickly. I am still curious, though. Why did you make Brian and Jim promise to wait to ask Honey and I out?"

"The age difference," Helen answered immediately. She touched Trixie's face to take any potential sting out of her words. "You were only fifteen at the time and getting ready to go into your sophomore year in high school. Jim was almost eighteen and almost a college freshman. That's a huge difference, Trixie, in age, in spirit and in maturity. It could have put a huge strain on both of you. If your relationship didn't work out, it could have ruined your friendship and would probably have tainted the relationship that the seven of you share. The Wheelers felt the same way about Honey and Brian. We didn't want to chance it. We wanted all four of you to remain friends and grow into yourselves, just the way that you have." She didn't share that her and Madeleine had been more than willing to cut the time short. She couldn't, not without putting the fathers in a bad light. "I hope you understand, Trixie."

Trixie's lips tugged up slightly at the corners. It wasn't a full smile but she didn't feel the need to frown. "I don't know what would have happened, Moms. I don't know if it was the right decision or not. We'll never really know." She shook her head, sending her curls in a riotous dance. "But I'm surprised to admit that it doesn't matter to me. Not really. All that matters is right now." Her eyes slid towards the window and in the direction of Ten Acres. "I'll find out why Jim invited me up to Ten Acres soon. I'm more anxious about meeting him than I am about my graduation ceremony."

Because it was more important to her. Helen couldn't stop the relieved smile from spreading across her face. "You must have a very good idea about what Jim wants to talk to you about." She nudged Trixie in the shoulder. "After all, it is your graduation day. It's the official end of the waiting period. You must know that it's a day that Jim has been waiting for for a very long, long time."

Trixie hesitated before the question burst out of her. Her mother was always an excellent source of reassurance. "Do you think that's what he wants to talk to me about?"

Helen draped an arm around her daughter and pulled her close. "Trixie, there isn't a doubt in my mind or in your father's. We truly believe that he has something absolutely, positively wonderful to tell you. Your father may not think it's so wonderful but I do," she said with a chuckle. "Jim will finally be laying it all out on the line for you. He is free to do so. His sense of honor would never have let him break his promise to his parents, the same as Brian's would never have been able to let him break his promise to us."

Trixie laid her head on her mother's shoulder, much like she had done when she was a little girl, and pictured the coming evening in her mind. It was suddenly hard for her to breathe. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. How she wanted to believe her mother, as well as her own instincts, but... "How do you know, Moms?" she wondered aloud. "How can you be so sure?"

"So sure about what? That Jim's absolutely crazy about you? That he's been absolutely crazy about you since you dragged him back to Sleepyside when you were thirteen?" Helen released a small laugh, put a finger under Trixie's chin and lifted her face up so she could look directly into her eyes. She saw the hesitancy, the uncertainness, which was so odd to find in a daughter who could face down danger at any corner, and hastened to comfort her, "Jim has always had good taste. He hasn't stopped watching you since the Wheelers adopted him and he moved into the Manor House. Plus there's the undeniable fact that the way he looks at you is the exact same way your father has always looked at me." It was the most essential part behind her need to visit with Trixie privately. She had to share a bit of her own choices in life with her daughter.

She was so close to believing it but she couldn't, not yet, not until she heard the words from Jim himself. Even then she doubted if she would truly believe. She didn't know what would have to happen before she would accept that Jim cared much more for her than as just a friend. Trixie pulled her chin out of her mother's grip and stared into her face, intently searching for an answer. "Daddy loves you," she murmured softly.

And Jim loves you, Helen thought to herself but kept that little tidbit to herself. He should be the one she heard the words from for the first time, not from her mother. She knew her daughter. Only then would she be able to comprehend the coming change in their relationship. "Yes, he does," she answered instead. "He still looks at me the way he did when we met for the first time."

"That's sweet." Trixie felt a warm glow start to spread through her. If her mother thought Jim looked at her in a special, more than in a fond, way, then that could mean he felt much more for her than she knew. She folded her arms across her chest, as if she was holding a delightful secret to her heart, and recalled the many special moments the two had shared since he had come home from college.

"It is." Helen studied the floor, trying to dredge up the courage to introduce the next part of their conversation. Remembering her own youth, she quietly admitted to herself how necessary it was. "You know, Trixie, sometimes things happen when you least expect them to." She hid an inner groan at the way it came out.

"Tell me about it." Trixie thought back to her most recent adventure and shuddered in distaste. It was behind her as much as it could possibly be but she had come to the conclusion that she would never be able to completely forget about it. "As much as I like solving a good mystery, there are parts of the adventure that I could surely do without."

"Right. Yes. Mysteries." Helen's laugh had a hysterical edge to it. "Mysteries can have some unexpected twists and turns to them and are certainly exciting. You've proven that over the years. But I'm not talking to you about mysteries right now, Trixie. I'm trying to tell you something else." She ran a nervous hand over her hair, smoothing back a few strands that had managed to escape the sparkly barrettes in her hair. "It's something entirely different than the dangers of a mystery, although I certainly want you to be safe from them, too."

Forehead furrowed in bewilderment, Trixie leaned away from her mother, as if she could study her better from a distance, and declared after a long, confused moment, "I don't understand you at all. What are you trying to tell me, Moms?"

"I know, I know. I'm not explaining this well at all." Helen's laugh was a little panicky, a little brittle, and not at all free or easy like it normally was. She fluttered her hands in front of her, feeling as if she had just jumped off of a tall cliff without a safety net to catch her. It wasn't a fun fall. It wasn't something she hoped to ever have to do again. "I want you to be safe."

Trixie felt some of her puzzlement fade away, thinking she understood where her mother was going with their conversation. "Of course you do. I will be safe. I've already promised not to go off on my own like I did the other night, even if I have an extremely good reason for it." She touched her side. She hardly had any pain anymore, only a small twinge every now and then, but she could feel where the bones had mended together. "I promise I'll do my very best to be safe and to stay safe."

Frustrated with herself, she sputtered out, "That's not what I'm talking about." Helen took a deep, uncomfortable breath. Deciding that the only way she could do it was to be completely and totally honest, she confided, "You know that your father and I married pretty young, right? He had just graduated from college. I hadn't. I was still in college when we got married. I left at the end of that semester and didn't return." Pointing to the pictures of her brothers that Trixie had on her dresser, she added solemnly, "I had better things to do."

Nothing new to her. Trixie nodded and said, "You've told that to us before. I remember how you shared with us that night when we were working on setting up the bikeathon for the art department at school a few years ago. It was the first time I realized that you had actually had a life before becoming our mother."

"Well, I think you may be old enough to hear the rest of it, in case you've never done the math on your own. Biological math can be a little tricky especially if you don't have all of the facts. I know math has never been one of your favorite subjects anyway. I don't think you ever have put it together," Helen rambled out, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. She paused, gathered her bearings, and inquired, her words coming out on a rush, "Did you ever stop to wonder why Brian's birthday was six months after our wedding anniversary?"

Trixie started to shake her head but stopped as the implication of what her mother was trying to tell her suddenly hit her. "Oh. Ohhh," squeaked out of her, long and low, while she gaped at her mother. She had never considered it before, had never even caught on to what the time frame meant. She really was bad at math, Trixie thought wildly. "I see," she whispered past her dry throat, her face as red as her mother's.

"Like I was saying before," Helen bravely continued, ignoring the stunned expression on her daughter's face. "Jim looks at you the same way your father looks at me. The exact same way, Trixie," she repeated strongly. She had traveled down the path that she was sure would tempt Trixie at some point in the near future. "You are so much like me. I want you to make the best choices possible for yourself."

Trixie's eyes were the widest they could get. The pupils threatened to swallow up the blue whole. "I…see," she got out weakly. She felt boneless, like her feet wouldn't be able to support her if she were to stand. Needing to physically do something to help take away the shock of her mother's revelation, she started swinging her feet again and concentrated on the motion, hoping it would help. It didn't. Her face only burned redder, her tongue seemed to be tied in knots, and she couldn't think.

Helen wanted to make an impact on her daughter. She wanted to instill a little voice of caution in her that would stop her from taking a drastic and irreversible step. She hadn't listened to the tiny one in her head on a memorable January night, over twenty years ago, and didn't regret her choice one bit. She only hoped that Trixie would listen to hers when the time came. Helen leaned in closer and whispered in Trixie's ear. "I'm not going to lecture you. I'm not going to embarrass you any more than I have. I'm certainly not going to tell you what to do or what not to do. What I want you to know is that you need to be smart. You need to consider all the consequences before taking a monumental risk." She stared into Trixie's eyes, held them there with the steely strength in them, and added, "Above all, you need to be safe."

"Oh, woe," Trixie choked out. She dropped her gaze at her hands in her lap, the unspoken implication hitting her with the force of a ton of bricks. She had certainly contemplated kissing Jim but, in her naïve and innocent mind, she had never gone much further beyond the simple and sweet act. She didn't have the experience, certainly hadn't considered more. Now that her mother laying it out for her to see the entire picture, Trixie couldn't help but feel mortified, embarrassed and shocked. And, she wouldn't even admit it to herself, also intrigued and curious.

Like a ship cutting through the choppy waves of the ocean, Helen forged on ahead as if she hadn't heard her. "I'm very happy with the choices that I've made in my life. It's not what I had planned for myself when I was your age but I couldn't be happier or more content." She found Trixie's hands, held on strongly as if she could infuse her strength and wisdom into her, and proclaimed fiercely, "My dreams ended up changing into something much better than I could ever have thought possible. I want you to learn from my choices. You are the one who needs to be happy with the choices that you make."

Her words sounded hollow and forced. She couldn't help it. She seemed unable to string together more than two words past her suddenly numb lips. "I understand."

Helen stood, pulled her shell-shocked daughter up with her, and gave her another hug, needing the embrace even more than Trixie. It wasn't as bad as she thought it would have been. She figured opening up the subject was about as pleasant as having all four of her wisdom teeth extracted at the same time or going to the busiest store on Black Friday. "We've only scratched the tip of the iceberg here, Trixie," she whispered into her ear. "I want you to know that if you ever have any questions, on anything, and I do mean _any_ thing, you can come to me. I'll listen and I'll help, if I can."

Trixie hugged her back limply. "Okay, Moms. I, ah, I guess I appreciate it." She looked over her mother's shoulder, into the mirror, and saw the look on her face. It was pained and astonished, with a small amount of gratitude to it. There was no one quite like her Moms. "Thanks, Moms."

Helen let her go after one more squeeze and cleared her throat, laying the subject to rest with a huge sigh of relief. "Well, I can tell by the clock that we had better get going. We need to get to the school by five-thirty. Graduation starts at promptly at six, you know. You can't be late tonight."

Trixie nodded her head dumbly. She had forgotten about graduating. Her mind couldn't get past the extremely interesting conversation her mother had gifted her with. "That's right, Moms." When her voice sounded throated, she tried again, pleased that she was almost back to normal, "We probably should get going."

"Dinner!" Helen exclaimed loudly, striving for a normal topic of conversation. "I made sandwiches for a light dinner," she explained lamely at Trixie's odd look while they walked to the door together. "I thought that would be a good choice since it's so hot out and we'll be eating later at the Manor House."

The butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach had nothing to do with the graduation ceremony. They were much bigger and more active than they had been before her mother's talk. "I don't think I'll be able to eat anything right now, Moms," Trixie gently refused. "I'm not hungry in the least. I'll wait until we come back home."

"That's the nerves, Trixie." Helen threaded her arm through Trixie's. "Let's go, dear. Your diploma's waiting for you."

Trixie followed her mother to the door. She cast one last glance back at her bedroom, seeing it through new eyes. As she stepped over the threshold of her room, she had the fanciful thought that she was entering a different, more fascinating world that she didn't have much experience with. Glancing at her bed, she had a strong feeling that her dreams were going to be much more interesting from now on. With a mixture of apprehension and exhilaration that had nothing to do with becoming a high school graduate, she walked down the hallway to the stairs. Something wonderful awaited her. She just knew it.


	59. Chapter 58

**Into The Light **

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Fifty-Eight

The sun was riding low along the horizon, announcing the coming end of the day, and sending out long-reaching rays of deep gold that caused dark, lazy shadows to form on the ground while the thin clouds peppering the sky took on a hue of a richly dark pink, serving as the perfect backdrop for the high school and the graduation ceremony. The immaculately manicured lawn and impeccably trimmed hedges adorned the school as the community prepared to celebrate the ending of another senior class. A huge banner hung from the walls of the school, congratulating the graduates in the school colors of white and blue, and promising them that they would not be forgotten. A throng of people stood chatting in small groups on the sidewalk and the attractive grounds of the school while clusters of seniors met, hugged and loitered about. Emotions were close to the surface on everyone in attendance, ranging at different points from sad to joyful to satisfaction and pride.

Trixie was the first to climb out of the van filled to overflowing with Beldens and stood on the sidewalk, taking it all in, a half smile on her face. Smoothing a hand over the skirt of her dress, she watched two classmates nearby embrace each other and then burst into a set of sentimental tears. She glanced heavenward and hoped that she would be able to make it through the next hour without an emotional outburst. Nodding at the rest of her family as they exited the vehicle and gathered around it, she pointed towards the front of the school. "I think I'd better start over," she announced breathlessly and started off in the right direction after receiving a nod from her mother.

Memories of the many times she had entered and exited the school as a student came back to her, from her first day as an anxious freshman with her two older brothers by her side to that very morning, when she had needed to come to school for her first and only graduation practice. But the most pleasant and cherished memories were when all seven of the Bob-Whites had attended the school together. Even though they hadn't had a choice, it hadn't felt the same when Brian and Jim had left the school. She had become used to it; there hadn't been any other option but to accept it, but then Mart and Dan had graduated, leaving the three girls alone. Again. Her face took on a wistful expression while she thought back to how long ago it had been since all seven of them had shared the high school and how much had changed since she had started out as a freshman.

Changes. More changes were coming than simply becoming a high school graduate. It was in the steamy June air that surrounded them. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Mart's footsteps as his longer stride began to catch up to her. He had already instigated a change within their group, was firmly entrenched and ecstatic in his new role as Di's attentive boyfriend. She hoped that there would be another change in her own status and desperately wanted to share a new title with someone else other than 'co-president'. Her face flushed a vivid red when she remembered the conversation her mother had gifted her with in her bedroom, as well as the reasoning behind it. Coming to a halt, she eagerly searched through the crowd ahead and bit her lip, hoping for a glimpse of red hair. She tried to tell herself that she wanted to find all the Wheelers but the only one she wanted to see was Honey's adopted brother.

Mart stopped next to her and caught her arm gently, bringing her around to face him. About to crack a joke, he interpreted the odd look on her face and frowned. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly from his spot next to her on the sidewalk, curious about her answer. "You look nervous all of a sudden."

If only he knew about the talk that had taken place between her and their mother. Trixie's eyes grew big and she swallowed back a nervous chuckle. She was almost afraid that the subject of their talk was going to burst past her lips, especially with that interesting tidbit about her parents' anniversary and their eldest brother's birthday. She wondered if Mart had ever caught on to the timing and had to clamp down on the overwhelming urge to spill it with a slightly hysterical giggle. Mart was the last person she wanted to know about their discussion. The fodder it would give him to tease her would be unimaginable and would last a long, long time, most likely until they retired from whatever careers they ended up in and were eligible to start receiving social security. "It's typical, right?" she asked instead, latching onto the excuse of her graduation. She wasn't exactly anxious about the experience. She simply wanted it over and done with. Glancing at the sky, she admitted to herself that she had something much bigger and much better planned for the evening than a simple graduation. "Being nervous, I mean," she added when he didn't respond to her.

"Of course." Mart inspected her closely and found nothing bothersome other than the excitement of the upcoming big event. Deciding it would be a fine time to tease her since no one else was around, he leaned in closer. Too intent on studying the people around them, she missed the way his blue eyes began to dance mischievously. With the rest of their family coming nearer, he whispered lowly so that only she could hear, "It's a big night, Trix. There are going to be a lot of people watching you. Of course you're going to be nervous." Then he sighed dramatically. "I don't know how you're going to do it. Plus there's the fact that you have to walk across that huge expanse of lawn, all on your own. We all know that you have an astonishing penchant for tripping over your own feet even when there is nothing, and I literally mean nothing, in front of you. I can think of numerous times when you have fallen prone on the ground." Taking a deep breath, going for a sympathetic tone but failing miserably, he questioned solemnly and pretended to wipe a tear away from his eye, "Wouldn't it be awful if that happened tonight? What a horrible way to end your high school experience. It would be horrible. I can see the pictures already."

Scowling at him, she pushed him away, ignoring his short bark of delighted older brother laughter, and put her hands on her hips, staring him down with ire flashing in her eyes. "Thanks, Mart. I can always count on you. That was just what I needed," she snorted with a sardonic roll of her eyes. Secretly she couldn't have been any happier. It wouldn't have been right if he had gone all maudlin on her.

"What's that, Trixie?" Brian inquired as he joined them. He saw the pleased expression on Mart's face, the murderous look on Trixie's, and hid his own amusement behind his patented older-brother's understanding smile. It didn't take a man who had nearly achieved a perfect score on his SATS to figure out that Mart had managed to annoy her in the thirty seconds they had been alone.

"You can ask him. He'll be glad to tell you. His one aim in life seems to be to irritate me. He does it rather well, as you certainly know," she retorted smartly, hooking her thumb towards Mart. Then she forgot about her annoying brother when the rest of the Belden clan caught up to them. As a group, they joined the throng of people walking from the parking lot and going towards the school. Intentionally keeping as much distance between herself and Mart, in case he should think of another bit of helpful advice to give her, she looked around carefully, trying to find the rest of the Bob-Whites, and was met with immediate success. "Look, Brian! Over there. It's Dan!" she sang out cheerfully, grabbing onto her brother's arm and pointing to the dark-haired young man who was walking their way from the opposite direction. By her calculations they would meet on the front lawn of the school. "He made it!"

"He must have parked on the street," Brian noted under his breath. "Smart man. He'll have a quick getaway when the time comes." He wished he had thought to remind his father to park on the street instead of in the packed parking lot. They could have saved at least ten minutes of waiting in the car before finally making it to the road. Graduation Day was one of the few events that caused a traffic jam in the quiet town of Sleepyside. Even with Sergeant Molinson and the rest of the police department herding traffic, it was still a pain to travel the streets.

Glad to hear that another Bob-White was in attendance, Mart pivoted around, forgoing his plan of finding yet another way to irritate his sister, and searched intently for his favorite club member. He couldn't find a lovely dark-haired girl with violet eyes. "No Di yet," he grumbled aloud, his frown deepening.

"I haven't seen Di but I do see someone else. It's Honey, right up ahead of us!" Trixie announced after a minute, waving wildly at her best friend. "She's standing with her parents."

Brian swung his head around and sucked in a deep breath. Honey was standing at the edge of the front lawn, smiling at them. Dressed in a sunshiny yellow dress that showed off her newly acquired tan from lifeguarding extremely well and with her hair pulled back into a neat and intricate French braid, she looked heavenly. He stopped and admired her, only started moving again when Bobby bumped into him from behind and pushed him forward.

Leaving her family behind her without a bit of regret, Trixie began to swiftly and artfully weave her way in and out of the crowd until she was could yell out Honey's name. "Honey!" Then she hurried passed the group milling around and sprinted the rest of the way to her friend.

Honey's excitement grew when she saw the young woman in blue. "Hey, Trixie!" she chirped out, clapping her hands delightedly. She left her post by her parents, skipped back to meet her and threw her arms around her best friend, glad that Trixie was the first of the Bob-Whites for her to greet. She cared as deeply for each and every member of their group but Trixie held a special place. She was the first one she had met. She was the one Honey held responsible for turning her away from the shy, frightened girl she had been and for showing her how much fun life could really be. Honey barely held herself back from bursting into a round of sweet, sentimental tears and held on tighter. With a hitch to her breath, she exclaimed, breaking into her trademark rapid-fire speech with the excitement of the evening, "You look wonderful! And thank goodness you're finally here, Trix! I've been looking for you since we got here. I was afraid you wouldn't make it in time. We still have to get our caps and gowns from Mr. Jenkins and then find our spots in the line. You have to know that there isn't that much time before we need to go inside the school." She paused for a much-needed breath, would have continued if Trixie hadn't jumped in with a good-natured laugh.

"Don't worry, Honey. We have plenty of time." Trixie gave a watery smile as she returned the embrace, surprised that she felt the uncomfortable prick of tears. It shouldn't have taken her aback. She slowly let go of Honey, realizing that it wasn't the fact that she was graduating that had steadily crept up on her, making her emotional. It was the ending of her high school years with Honey and Di that had the power to bring the damned moisture to her eyes. Inhaling sharply allowed her to regain control. "We got here a few minutes ago. Have you seen Di yet?" She stood on her tiptoes, as if the act of growing an extra inch or two of height would help her see over the crowd coming in from the parking lot. It didn't help. She still couldn't find Di.

Honey gestured towards the parking lot, nodding happily at the rest of the Belden crew as they caught up to them on the sidewalk. "I think I saw the Lynches drive in right after you did." She stifled a giggle when Mart immediately made an unintelligible sound and whirled on his heels to glance in the direction they had come from. Then she focused on Trixie while she pretended not to notice that the youngest dark-haired Belden had joined them. Her heart stopped for a long moment and then started up again, more rapidly than before, and she took a series of deep, calming breaths to keep from doing something insanely stupid, like tossing herself into his arms, which she thought would only serve to mortify her and embarrass him. "You're not the last one this time, Trix," she added after a moment of silence. "Di has the honor tonight."

"It had to be someone." Trixie pointed ahead. "Dan's on his way over. He should be here in a minute." That left one-unaccounted for Bob-White. She didn't dare bring up his name, not with so many people milling about, and not with so many of them knowing about the promise each set of parents had asked him to make. Gritting her teeth, she realized that every adult knew. Bobby was the only one who didn't have a clue.

With a wicked glint to her hazel eyes, Honey moved in for another hug and whispered playfully, for Trixie's ears only, "That only leaves Jim. Have you found him yet, Trixie?" She arched an eyebrow, trying for an innocent expression and completely unsuccessful in her endeavor.

She had. She had spotted him the second after she had noticed Honey. He was standing on the lawn, well off to the right, with his hands stuffed in his pockets and a pair of dark sunglasses on his face, and by himself. Trixie swallowed hard and answered hoarsely, "Right behind you, Honey, and off to the side. He hasn't come over to us yet." He was probably being his thoughtful best, giving the two of them a private moment before the evening officially began. Then she put in softly with an added twinkle to her eyes, needing to give a little back and not wanting to be the only victim of good-natured teasing for the evening, "Brian just left us. He's gone over to talk to him. You should see for yourself." She put her hands on Honey's suddenly stiff shoulders and helpfully turned her around.

Honey felt hot color flood her face when their gazes met and held. She was the first to look away. "All right. I guess I deserve that," she remarked with a small grin after she was able to form words again and apologized to her best friend with the elegant grace she had been born with. "I am sorry, Trixie. I won't tease you anymore. I promise. It's not nice and you get even way too quickly." Their laughter mingled together and floated towards their brothers.

Rooted to the ground a few feet away, unaware that his best friend was only a few inches from him, Jim had been rendered speechless and unable to do anything but watch her through his darkly tinted sunglasses. He was glad he had worn them, was sure every impure thought that he was presently contemplating would have been reflected in his gaze, and let himself watch her. In a typical Trixie move, she tossed her head back and grinned, blissfully unaware of his intense perusal, while he had the undeniable pleasure of drinking the sight of her in. He took her in slowly, like he was savoring a vintage wine, and committed every part of her to memory. His eyes skimmed over her, going from the curling mass of yellow hair on her head to the brilliant blue of her dress and then all the way down her tanned legs. He didn't miss the killer curves that the dress alluded to, knowing on some level that it was much more effective because it fell softly around her body instead of clinging to it. He found her face again, felt an answering smile tug at his lips when the two girls started giggling. In his opinion she had never looked lovelier. She didn't seem ill-at-ease or uncomfortable in the dress like she sometimes did when she was forced to put one on. She wore the dress well. Even though he was a male and not the most conscious of women's fashion, he could appreciate the fact that it was a perfect fit for her, and felt the potency of a dressed-up Trixie in the same way he would have caught a punch to the gut. He had to remind himself to breathe. Too absorbed in his study, he missed the knowing look her mother sent him, the way his own mother sighed deeply, and the combined snorts of disdain coming from their fathers.

"Behave," Helen murmured mildly to Peter, a force of steel behind her words. She squeezed his hand and pulled him towards the Wheelers, a wide smile of welcome adorning her face, and didn't look at her husband again. He had his orders. She expected him to follow through.

"But he's looking at her, Helen," Peter retorted petulantly. He stared hard at the young man, willing him to look in his direction, but Jim didn't seem to be capable of looking anywhere but Trixie. He saw Sergeant Molinson hanging out at the entrance to the school and wondered if he would have any luck filing a complaint about someone staring too long at his daughter.

He would probably be doing something more than just looking at her by the time the evening was over, Helen thought to herself but wisely kept that particular belief to herself. She didn't want to fan any fires. She needed to extinguish them instead. "She wants him to look at her, Peter," she murmured under her breath. "The time limit you set is up. Jim's done everything his parents asked him to do, the same way that Brian completed our request for Honey. The ball is in their court now. They can finally move ahead, if that's what they decide they want to do." A bittersweet smile floated across her face. "Judging from the way Brian and Jim are finding it hard to see anyone else but two of Sleepyside's newest graduates, I'd suggest that you let it go."

Peter glanced up at the sky, thinking that it should have been a darkening gray instead of a peaceful blue to suit his rapidly deteriorating mood, but the sun sparkled down, mocking him with its brilliance, and making him sigh. Helen was right. He was going to have to let it go, to start to let Trixie go, to let her move ahead with her life and start making her own decisions. It was much harder with a daughter than it had been with his sons. He stared at Jim again, this time with only a hint of animosity shining forth from his dark eyes, and sighed again. It was inevitable.

"I hear you," Matthew told Peter immediately and earned a quick jab in the stomach from his elegantly attired wife. His breath whooshed out before he pointed towards Brian, who was staring at Honey as if he had never seen her before. "My wife has spent the past five minutes lecturing me, too. She says that it's time to stop interfering in their lives."

Peter threaded his fingers through his wife's and agreed hoarsely. "Mine says it's time to let it go."

"You should have learned a long time ago that Madeleine and I are always right," Helen declared while the Lynch family came down the sidewalk. The twin boys led the way, with Larry hobbling with astonishing speed for someone on crutches and with an ankle wrapped up in a dark blue cast. They were immediately greeted by an enthusiastic Bobby. The threesome put their heads together and raced off the sidewalk. She waved in acknowledgement and added, "I believe that we're going to have two very happy daughters before the night is finished."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Madeleine agreed with a regal nod and a smile for the last family to join them.

Taking advantage of the conversations carrying on around them, Mart moved swiftly to Di's side. There were too many people around for what he wanted to do so he settled for holding her hand instead. "You look gorgeous, Di," he said huskily, choosing simple words for once, and enjoying the sight of her in a lovely purple dress splattered with splotches of artistic white flowers across it.

"Thanks, Mart," she answered, her violet eyes luminous with excitement and happiness. "I was afraid that we were going to be late."

Madeleine did a quick head count when the remaining three Bob-Whites came over. Delighted when she came up with seven, she called out, "Thank goodness! Everyone's finally here. Let's get a few pictures of all of you before we have to find our seats for the ceremony," she announced grandly, deciding it was time to move ahead, and began searching through her overly large designer purse. Pulling out her camera with a triumphant laugh, she handed it over to her husband who accepted it quickly. "Matthew, you can do the honors. We need to get all seven of you together."

Matthew looked at the seven young adults and felt a pride for the group overtake him. They had worked so hard over the years, had done so many good deeds for others with minimal rewards for themselves other than the satisfaction that came from helping someone in need, and had even managed to solve countless mysteries along the way, under the direction of Trixie and his own daughter. They had remained friends, close, cherished friends, despite the age differences and the physical and emotional distance that existed between high school and college life. They would continue to remain close, he could see that, despite the fact that many friendships that began in high school faded soon after college life started. It hadn't happened when the four men had gone away. It wouldn't happen when the ladies joined them. He felt some of his over-protectiveness towards Honey begin to dissipate when he saw how she shyly smiled up at Brian when the young man appeared at her side. She couldn't have picked a better man, he thought quietly and nodded curtly in acceptance. Then he made room for Helen and Mrs. Lynch and held up his camera, taking his job as amateur photographer seriously. His wife wouldn't be pleased if she didn't have many, many pictures of the happy event. "Let's gather in closely, everyone!" he ordered in a brisk tone he generally reserved for boardroom meetings.

Amidst a chorus of loud groans, the seven Bob-Whites knew better than to argue and complied without too much complaining. They quickly gathered in together, the girls in the middle with the four boys flanking them from behind and around the sides, and smiled obligingly to the three cameras when Mr. Wheeler and the two mothers asked them to. The cameras flashed over and over again, capturing the jovial, smiling group.

Jim considered himself lucky to have gained the position behind Trixie. He moved in a little closer than necessary and gave in to the need to touch her, carefully placing a hand at the small of her back, despite the fact that he hadn't been able to say one word to her yet. His tanned hand stood out against the vibrant blue. It looked right against her. He lightly rubbed a fingertip over the softness of the material of her dress, appreciating the way it felt. His grin widened when he felt her stiffen and then relax into his hold. She didn't turn her head, didn't dare call attention to it, but he knew that she was aware of the person behind her.

If a slight touch from him had the power to cause her to stop thinking, she couldn't begin to comprehend what anything else he may do with her could possibly make her feel. Hoping that her smile would pass for happy and carefree instead of a unique combination of nervous and thrilled, she concentrated on the warmth of his hand at her back, and forced her mouth to smile for the camera. When the cameras were put away for the time being, she allowed herself to breathe again, and slid a small glance over her shoulder, their eyes meeting for the barest of seconds.

"Good luck, Trixie," Jim said easily, conscious of the fact that they were surrounded and it wasn't their time. Yet.

Trixie opened her mouth, about to reply back, when Di whirled around and grabbed the hands of her fellow female graduates. "We've got to get going now. The crowd is starting to thin out. We don't have that much time to get to our places," she announced to the others, taking charge. With a last lingering look at Mart, she started to pull the girls away from the group. "We're going to be late if we don't move now!" she exclaimed.

With a cheerful wave of farewell and a few girlish giggles, Trixie and Honey linked arms with Di and hurried through the front doors of the school, with three pairs of fascinated eyes following their moves. The girls followed the excited chatter of the other seniors to the music room where the rest of their class had already gathered and were starting to get in line for the procession out to the seating area that had been set up near the pond. They were the last three to get their caps and white gowns from a frowning Mr. Jenkins. Trixie wondered if he had ever smiled in his life. Thinking back to the year of precalculus and trigonometry she had experienced with him, as well as the impressive amount of homework he had gifted her with during her week off from school, she highly doubted it. She had never seen one smile cross his face during any of her classes with him. "You almost missed it, girls," he told them sternly.

Properly chastised, Trixie mumbled an apology and was the last one to accept her white gown and cap. Tucking the cap under her chin, she hastily pushed her arms through the sleeves of the gown and zipped it up. It hit just below her toned calves. The blue of her dress shone attractively through the thin white of the gown. She played with the blue and white tassel before cramming the cap on the top of her head, crushing a few curls, and completely unconcerned with how it looked on her. She turned to admire her friends.

After artfully adjusting her own cap and pinning it into its rightful place, Di gasped at the haphazard way Trixie had plopped hers on. "No, that won't do at all, Trix. Here, let me see your cap. I'll fix it for you," she murmured firmly. She pulled out a few extra bobby pins from a hidden pocket in her dress and had the hat situated perfectly on Trixie's blonde hair in a matter of a few seconds. Stepping back, eyes narrowed, she admired her handiwork closely. Pleased by the way the white cap rested with a halo of yellow curls around it, she gave a satisfied nod. "There. Now that's perfect, Trixie. Much better than before. Don't you think so, Honey?"

Honey flicked her tassel and chuckled when it tickled her nose before it settled back into its normal spot. "You did a marvelous job, Di. It's difficult to get one of these awkward things to look just right. It's no wonder they've never become huge in the fashion industry. They are too ugly and cumbersome, if you ask me." She didn't care that she was speaking nonsense. The nerves had increased the second she had slipped on her gown.

Trixie gave Di a grateful smile and then jumped when Mr. Jenkins called for all the seniors to get in their places. Blushing furiously because she knew he was looking at her, she whispered, "Good luck, girls. This is it." The three embraced quickly before Trixie broke it off and found her spot close to the front of the line. She offered a wan smile as she slipped her way in-between the two students that bookended her and inwardly cursed the fact that her last name had to start with a B. The staff at the high school always planned the line with the alphabet in mind. They never organized the processional line any other way, wouldn't hear of any other possible order for any graduating senior class. She eyed Honey enviously, who has happily hanging out third from the end of the line. Di was comfortable ensconced in the exact middle of the processional. Her last name of Lynch served her well. Trixie shook her head, wondering crazily what her parents would have done if she had wanted to change her last name to something that started with a Z so that she wouldn't have to be one of the first graduates in line.

Then the introductory music sounded through the speakers that were set up at different strategic spots throughout the lawn and the long line of soon-to-be-high-school-graduates started moving forward, their steps slow and deliberate as they had been instructed to do that morning. Trixie stared straight ahead, walked through the hallway for the last time as a legitimate member of the school community, came out the side door, and onto the sidewalk that would take them to the seating area that had been set up for the ceremony. The class walked pass the picturesque pond that would serve as an excellent place for pictures after the ceremony and moved towards the small hill where two large canopies had been set up to cover the audience and the graduates from the evening sun. Their friends and families stood while the graduates walked past. They couldn't have planned for better weather. It was wonderful for an outdoors ceremony. A light breeze stirred, gently teasing at the bottom of her white gown and lifting the edges of it up, and brought with it a tiny bit of a relief from the heat of the June evening. Many members in the audience were using their programs as fans to circulate more air. Ever the curious one, she searched the ends of each aisle as they passed it on their long trek but couldn't spot her family or the rest of the Bob-Whites anywhere. There were too many people but she didn't feel disappointed. She would have a great view of the audience from her spot in the front row.

Again wishing for any last name other than Belden, Trixie stood in front of the sixth chair from the aisle and waited patiently for the rest of her class to filter in to their seats. She smiled at both Di and Honey as they strolled past her to their places, Di two rows back, and Honey in the very last row, and then was brought back to reality when Mr. Stratton started speaking. He took control of the microphone, invited the senior class to have a seat, and then began one of his many speeches as master of the ceremony for the evening and welcomed everyone to the graduation. As much as she liked him as a principal, Trixie couldn't help but wish that he wasn't so long-winded. Using the time wisely, not hearing a single encouraging word that he said, she looked out into the crowd, searching for her family and for her friends, the melodious voice of their principal passing over her. She didn't pay the least bit of attention to him, more concerned with finding the people she loved the most in the entire world. It didn't take her more than a few seconds. She saw Mart first. He sat in the middle of an aisle, with Dan right next to him, and Brian on the other side. He was whispering to Dan, possibly finding something amusing in Mr. Stratton's speech. She had to grin when her mother reached behind and tapped both of them on the shoulders, ordering them to stop talking without saying a single word, in the exact same way she had stopped many of their childhood arguments. Their looks of chagrin were identical and comical and had her stifling a chuckle that made the two students sitting next to her frown at her. Then she concentrated on her youngest brother, who had been placed between her parents. He kept leaning back in his chair, trying to catch the eyes of either of the Lynch twins, who had obviously and intentionally been put as far away from their friend as either set of parents could seat them. The Wheelers were flanked on both sides by her parents and Di's parents. The three sets of cameras flashed continuously. Next she looked at Brian and followed the point that his eyes were glued on. She covered her mouth to hide a giggle. Not surprising, he couldn't tear his eyes off of Honey. She doubted if he was even paying attention to the ceremony, either, which was an astounding thought since Brian was always the one of their group who could be depended on to treat any situation with the seriousness and gravity that it deserved.

Last, she focused on the man sitting on the other side of Brian and couldn't tear her eyes away from him. A fluttery sensation began in her stomach, a feeling of uneasiness, anticipation and excitement mixing together and making her more nervous than the graduation ceremony could ever have made her experience. Swearing that she could still feel his touch, she touched the spot on her back that his hand had rested on only a short while ago. There was only roughly two hours remaining before she would be alone with him, at Ten Acres, and when she would find out exactly what he wanted to talk to her about. The sudden warm feeling that came over her had nothing to do with the early summer heat.

She wanted to know what Jim was staring at but she couldn't tell. His dark sunglasses were back on and hid his eyes from her. Even as she wished that he would take them off so she would know already, he did just that, almost as if he had heard her internal request. There wasn't any mistaking who he was looking at now. Their eyes collided through the wide expanse of space between them, from the elevated hill the graduating class sat on in neat little rows of uncomfortable metal folding chairs to the hundreds of chairs that had been erected for their families and friends. Not one single word their guest speaker spoke sank in or even registered; she was too consumed with Jim. It wasn't possible from the distance. It was too far away but she could have sworn that she read something deeper in his emerald eyes than simply pride or happiness that she was graduating from high school. She didn't have a clue how long they stared at each other or what was going on with the rest of the graduation ceremony. She knew she didn't want to break the connection that existed between them. He didn't, either. His lips tilted up in acknowledgement. Her answering smile was sunny and sweet and reached him through the distance between them. She reluctantly dropped her eyes when the students around her stood up after Mr. Stratton had returned to the microphone, thanked their guest speaker amidst a round of polite applause from the crowd and then invited the first row of graduates to stand, start forward and receive their diplomas.

Then she had to work hard to stay focused on the simple act of walking up to get her diploma. Mart's teasing words came floating back at her. She told herself she would not, would absolutely not, trip on her way to get her diploma. Mart would never let her hear the end of it if she did. She ordered herself to relax and moved carefully and slowly. The pace of the line was slow and plodding, exactly what she needed. Grateful to be in sandals, she waited her turn and held her breath during her walk to get her diploma when her hated full name was called. She heard the shouts of congratulations coming from the area where her family and friends sat, accepted it with a smile, and rejoined the line, the diploma in her hand. It felt sturdy, strong and very real. It was her ticket to growing up.

Only when she was standing back at her seat did she allow herself to take a deep, relieved breath. Staring down at her diploma, she automatically followed suit and sat down as the second line of graduates started their long walk up the aisle and across the front to receive their diplomas. Fascinated by the object in her hands, she opened it up, saw her name beaming back at her in the boldest and fanciest way she had ever seen it printed, and traced her name with her finger. It finally felt real to her. High school was no more for her; would only be a passing memory. She was moving on. She glanced up from the open diploma in her lap, saw Jim studying her again, and felt her heart start to beat wildly. She had a strong suspicion that she was moving on to something wonderful.

She dropped his gaze only when she heard Diana Lynch's name called and caught the small flinch on Di's face before she stiffened her shoulders and started across the green lawn towards Mr. Stratton and her diploma. She still didn't like to be called by her full name, had quietly requested her friends not to do that. Trixie felt a prick of tears sting her eyes for her friend. The effects of that Saturday night were still felt, despite their best intentions not to let it touch them any longer. "Good for you, Di," she murmured under her breath, proud of the way Di hadn't let it bother her overly much.

Then Trixie craned her neck and waited for Honey's turn. Out of the three of them, Trixie knew that the graduation ceremony meant the most to Honey. They had talked about it numerous times over the past few weeks. Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School was the first school that Honey had attended where she had felt like she had truly belonged. Trixie nodded her head when Madeleine G. Wheeler gracefully accepted what she had worked so hard for and saw the sparkle of a tear as it traced down her friend's cheek. Trixie noted without a hint of surprise that she was the only one of the three to cry.

The rest of the ceremony flew by. Eager for it to be over, waiting as patiently as she possibly could, Trixie let out a loud whoop when the graduating class was announced and was invited to move their tassels and then toss their caps up into the air. "Thank goodness that's over. I don't think I could have sat for much longer," she muttered as she bent to receive her cap, thankful that the ceremony was over.

Di approached her quickly, her earlier frustration with the mention of her full name a thing of the past. "Isn't this exciting? Wasn't the ceremony beautiful?" she declared rhetorically. She motioned for Honey to join them while the seniors started pouring down the small hill and into the aisles to meet their families. Deciding it would be best to wait until there was more room and the crowd had thinned out, Di stepped out of the path and towards Trixie's place in the front row, pulling Honey with her. "It's so hard to believe that we never have to attend another class here at all. No more homework. No more tests. No more papers." With a mile-wide grin on her face, she contemplated the thought, only to have it ruined by Honey.

"Until we get to college," Honey interjected, giggling as the rest of their class left the area in a haphazard and disorganized fashion, the completely opposite of the way they had entered the area, and threw an arm around their shoulders, her diploma dangling from her hand. "It kind of reminds me of the prom," she said to the two. "All of this excitement and build-up and then, bang! It's over before you know it. It's almost anti-climactic, if you ask me."

"It's not quite over," Di corrected her firmly. "We still have more pictures to take." She laughed in the direction of their parents who were in the process of collecting their things and waved at her mother, who held up her camera in response. She turned back to her friends, a glint to her eyes and added, "And, if my memory serves me right, I seem to remember that two out of the three of us standing here have something even more special to see to tonight other than the graduation party your parents have planned, Honey." She tapped a perfectly manicured finger to her chin while both Honey and Trixie blushed in unison. "I wonder who they could be? I'm relatively positive it's not me. I'm certain Mart will be excited to see me, don't get me wrong, but we don't have anything monumental planned. So, if you take me out of the equation, then that means it would have to be…"

"Oh, stop," Trixie muttered, cursing the red color of her cheeks, and stared down at the ground.

"At least Jim has already asked you to meet him somewhere. You have a place and a time," Honey murmured with a small frown marring her face, overlooking Di's playful teasing, and swallowed a sigh. She followed the two down the gently sloping hill and into the nearly empty aisles. "Brian hasn't said anything to me yet."

"Why, Honey Wheeler!" Trixie forgot her sudden flare of embarrassment and gaped at her friend in amazement, her mouth open. "You know that Brian will talk to you. He's already promised to have a 'good' talk with you, whatever that means. Knowing my brother, he'll probably spring it on you at the party. Brian never breaks a promise."

Didn't she know it. Honey shushed her swiftly as they came closer to their friends and family. "No more talk of that now, all right, girls? I don't want anyone to overhear us."

Then there was another round of congratulations, hugs, a few tears, and even more pictures. It was chaotic in the extreme, with everyone jockeying for a spot next to an available graduate. Madeleine proved to be the most taxing out of all of the parents when it came to getting just the right pictures of the event. First the three graduates, then the seven friends, were arranged and then rearranged at her direction, over and over again and in different places, while the memory cards on the different digital cameras were filled to capacity. It wasn't the time or place for private discussions or even a quickly murmured message. It was a time for family, for friends, and to celebrate together. They were one of the last sets of graduates to leave the premises, much to the collective amusement of Mr. Stratton and the rest of the staff who had stayed behind to assist cleaning up after the ceremony.

Jim intentionally lagged behind the large group as they made their way back to the traffic jam that was now their school's parking lot. Waiting for the right moment, he casually grabbed Trixie's arm, forcing her to fall into step with him, and brought her behind the others, all without drawing any undo amount of attention to them.

She turned around, breathless, her expressive face showing her curiosity. The diploma nearly dropped to the sidewalk from her suddenly boneless grip. "Jim," she squeaked out, feeling like a high school girl even while holding the proof that she could no longer be considered one.

They didn't have much time. They certainly didn't have the privacy. He inquired quickly and quietly, "I'll see you at Ten Acres soon, right?"

The damn sunglasses were back on. She couldn't read his expression, couldn't see how his gaze pierced through her while he waited for her answer. She nodded her head dumbly. "Of course. I have to take the phone call from my aunt but I'll…" Interrupted by Bobby yelling her name from side of the van, she gave him an apologetic look. "I'll be there as soon as I can," she finished hurriedly and took off after her brother. She stopped near the sliding door of the van, sent one last look at him and waved. He responded with a two-fingered salute before joining his own family. Graduation hadn't been nearly as important to her as it should have been. Only a drop in the bucket. The most exciting part of her evening was yet to come.


	60. Chapter 59

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Trixie trotted into the kitchen, her patience stretched to the limit after enduring yet another amateur photo shoot, this time at the mercy of her family. She hated being the focal point, had only tolerated it for the sake of her mother who had been gifted with the patience of a saint. Her face felt like it would crack if she attempted to smile again. She gently massaged the sore facial muscles and wondered how the supermodels managed to do it day in and day out. They could have the career as far as she was concerned. Quickly shedding her white graduation gown the way a snake would its skin, she threw it carelessly across a chair. The white cap was next. It landed upside down on the kitchen table with the ends of the tassels all askew. She didn't bother to fix it. Her diploma was placed with a little more care before she pulled out a chair and sat down gratefully, a frown on her face as she stared at the wooden clock on the wall, trying to prompt the minute hand into moving faster than its normally slow plod across the clock and wishing that there was some way she could hurry the time forward. But it was a useless endeavor. Until some scientist discovered how to maneuver the eternal and unforgiving continuum that was time, she was stuck in the present. Her mind wasn't in the Belden kitchen or preparing for the upcoming phone call from her Aunt Alicia. It was up at Ten Acres, waiting to finally meet up with Jim.

Impressed by the myriad of emotions meandering across her expressive face, Brian paused in the doorway to appreciate the amusing sight that was his sister. A large grin flashed across his face at the dejected picture she made with her shoulders slumped and her chin propped up in her hand. He could practically feel the impatience vibrating off of her in nearly tangible waves. The same feeling was attacking him. He was simply better at hiding it behind composed eyes and a façade of calmness. Hands on the doorframe, he called out loudly, "Waiting for your coming phone call?"

She whipped her head around, her upper lip curled. Then she aimed a look at the clock that should have melted it into a pile of twisted cogs and springs and let out a frustrated groan. As much as she hoped it would have, it hadn't stopped once she left high school. She was still a victim of the clock. Her disgruntled grumbles told of her frustrations. "If there is one thing I know about Aunt Alicia, other than the fact that she is way too handy with a sewing needle and thread for my taste, it is that she is always punctual. I mean, punctual. The Marines could synchronize their watches by her. She won't call a minute too early or a minute too late. I've got fifteen minutes of waiting before the phone will ring." Trixie sprawled in the chair, trying to get comfortable, an unhappy pout on her face.

A car door slammed outside, followed by two more doors closing, abruptly cutting into the response he had been attempting to make. Curious, he glanced outside and saw his parents, Mart and Bobby residing in his father's sedan. Arching an eyebrow, he watched it drive down the driveway, pleased that no one in the family had tried to discourage him from his plan to walk up to the graduation party at Manor House. Specifically, he was surprised that Mart hadn't decided to tag along on his walk. Either Mart had recognized that fact that he needed time alone to think or he had simply wanted to get to the party to Di quicker. It was a toss-up. Whatever the reason, it left Brian free to his own thoughts. "We've been forgotten, Trixie. Everyone else is on their way to the party. Believe it or not, we're the only two Beldens left."

"You mean you've been forgotten," Trixie clarified, scowling and giving the phone another death glare. "I'm stuck here for the time being. Why didn't you go up with the rest of the family?" She tilted her head to the side. "Aren't you going to the party?"

"I'm walking," Brian answered quickly. Too quickly.

Trixie drummed a finger along the top of the glossy wooden table, planning on the best way how to interrogate him. Thinking it would serve her well to throw him off his guard, she questioned, "Do all graduation ceremonies drag on and on like mine? This one went on for just about ever, it seemed. I didn't think Mr. Stratton would ever get to the part where we got our diplomas. And our guest speaker seemed to drone on and on, too."

"They are long," Brian answered truthfully. Then he broke out of his older brother mold and teased her gently, "But they tend to go by faster if you actually pay attention to the ceremony. It was obvious that your mind was as far away from the speakers at your ceremony as it could be." He knew who she had been thinking about but refused to call her on it. "Did you hear anything that was said?"

Trixie gave a low chuckle. "Other than my name and Di's and Honey's?" Her grin was playful. "Nope, not a thing. I can honestly tell you that any of the pearls of wisdom that the speakers tried to give us did not sink in. I only cared about getting this." She held her diploma aloft and then quickly reached for her tassel, letting the silky ends run through her fingers. "And my tassel. Tassels are pretty cool."

Brian's laugh mixed with hers. He thought about teasing her more, about the fact that she hadn't had eyes for anyone but Jim, but he figured she could return the fire too easily. He wasn't about to put himself in that position. She had participated in too many verbal skirmishes with Mart over the years. There was no way that she had missed the fact from her vantage point that he hadn't been able to tear his gaze away from Honey. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his program. "You're going to need this. I made a few notes in the margins for you."

Trixie accepted it, her brow furrowed in puzzlement. "Why on earth am I going to need this?"

"Aunt Alicia," was his prompt answer. "She's going to question you about the ceremony, especially about the guest speaker and what he said. You'll be able to get by with the answers I've supplied you. She won't know that you didn't hear a word that was said."

"Thanks, Brian." She gifted him with a special smile. "I appreciate it." Then she closed her eyes. The thought of the questions her aunt was going to throw her way in a few minutes was daunting. It was going to be an unpleasant experience.

"No problem. It's the least I could do for my favorite sister." He ruffled her curls affectionately.

"Hey! I'm your only sister." Her chuckles filled the room. Then Trixie quieted down, thought about how uncertain Honey had sounded after the graduation ceremony, and pinned her brother with a look that had him suddenly nervous. She wasn't going to interrogate. She was going to skip that part and go straight for the jugular. "You know, Brian, you should probably talk to Honey," Trixie began slowly, eyeing him to see how he would react.

"Yeah, I will. That's on the agenda," he answered without thinking. Then Brian paused. He studied her carefully, saw the smug expression on her face, and felt his mouth drop to the floor. She knew. She had to. How could she know? He hadn't told her. Jim certainly wouldn't have clued her in. He wracked his brain, trying to come up with some plausible way of how she could have found out. "You know. Oh my God. You know!" he spoke accusingly, pointing at her. His lips drew together. Emitting a groan, he demanded fiercely, "How the _hell _do you know, Trixie?"

She smothered a laugh with her hand, her blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "You told me, Brian," she informed him, delighted with the disbelieving glare that he gifted her. It was so much fun to see him off-balance. It wasn't something she was able to witness often. "Don't you remember?" she added saucily.

"I think I would have remembered something like that," he grouched under his breath and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. The ramifications were astounding. If she knew, then maybe…he didn't finish it. He needed more information first. Taking refuge behind a much-needed breath of air, he ordered her, "You're going to have to refresh my memory here, Trix. I can't recall ever talking to you about the promises I made to our parents. Or even discussing it with someone else when you were within a mile radius of us. I know I don't talk in my sleep so you couldn't have heard it that way." He couldn't believe it and shook his head, hoping to clear it. Catching a glimpse of the hill that Ten Acres sat on, he wondered if Jim had a clue that Trixie was in the know. The odds were slim that he would be able to warn his best friend ahead of time. "When did I miraculously tell you about the promise?"

"Prom night," she responded quickly and tossed her head back, sending her hair falling around her head in a riotous waterfall of curls. "You told me on prom night. Unknowingly, of course, but that's when you told me. I guess you could say that I was technically eavesdropping although I think you should give me a pass on that one, since you did come into the room that I was sleeping in." She saw the recognition dawn on his face and felt her grin grow even larger and more satisfied. It prompted her to add, "Reddy woke me up when one of you came home. He started barking, probably when Mart walked through the back door since that brother of ours always moves with the grace of an elephant." She leaned towards him, her hands splayed across the table and added, in case her gaping brother had missed what she was trying to tell him, "I heard everything you told Mart, Brian. And I mean everything."

Stunned, all he could do was look at her. It took a minute for him to pick his chin up off the floor. "Wait a minute, wait a minute," he said after regaining his bearings. "Let me get this straight. You overheard Mart and I when we found you and Jim, sleeping together on the sofa, in the den?"

"Guilty as charged," she responded with an effervescent cheerfulness that rankled him.

Brian tried to picture the scene in his mind. He remembered it well. Trixie and Jim, stretched out and asleep on the sofa, while he discussed their parents' decision with Mart. It couldn't have been any more embarrassing for him. He clutched at the one part of the evening that he could pick at like it was a lifeline. "Let's slow it down here, Trixie. I need to play the older brother card. If we woke you up, then why didn't you move from the sofa and go upstairs to your room?" His eyes narrowed at her, seriously doubting if their parents would be ecstatic if they ever heard this tidbit. They wouldn't be pleased to learn that she had chosen to stay with Jim instead of finding her own bed.

"You have got to be kidding me." Trixie rolled her eyes, muttering something unintelligible about the obtuseness that was her older brother. "Don't be stupid, Brian. I wasn't leaving that room voluntarily." She didn't add that she would gladly give up all of her worldly possessions, which, admittedly, were not that much, to spend another night like that with Jim but she didn't share her desires with Brian. There were some things a sister simply didn't tell a brother, especially when it involved his best friend. "But that's not the point here. I'm more interested in you and Honey. Are you going to be talking to her tonight?" She came full circle and repeated the question he had successfully avoided answering.

"I already told you, yes." Sometimes her doggedness got on his nerves. He admired her tenaciousness, just not when it was aimed at him. "I am going to talk to her, Trixie. Tonight. At the party," he added forcefully. His eyes dared her to continue. "Do you want to know what I'm going to talk to her about?"

Trixie decided to let it go. The fine line between sister and friend was a tricky one. Secure in the knowledge that he would at least be talking to Honey and unwilling to dig into what their discussion would be about, she got up and opened the refrigerator, effectively closing the door into his private life. She would treat it as an 'as-needed basis' and decided that she didn't need to know. Not from him. Honey would share it with her tomorrow. At least, she would share the parts that wouldn't nauseate her. "Do you want anything to drink, Brian?"

Brian shook his head, stunned once again. She, Trixie Belden, was letting him off the hook? She wasn't going to interrogate him on the who, what, where, when and why? "You're not going to play Twenty Questions with me, Trix?"

"Nope," she affirmed jovially. "It's between you and Honey. Besides, I don't want you to pry into my meeting with Jim so it wouldn't be right if I tried to force anything more out of you." She popped open a can of strawberry pop. "When are you leaving?"

"I'm walking up now." He watched her down the bridge of her nose. She seemed sincere, didn't appear to want to search for anything more from him. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her if Honey knew about the promise he had made to his parents but he bit it back. He didn't want to know. It would only make him more nervous. "I wanted to walk tonight." He had a lot of thoughts to collect and organize. "Will you be all right here, alone? Do you want me to walk you up to Ten Acres?"

Trixie declined with an unladylike snort. She had stopped counting the number of times one of her family members asked her that question whenever she was going to be alone in the house. It was sweet. It was touching. But she was ready to resume all levels of her normal life. She was ready for everyone to stop worrying about her and let her regain all of her independence. "I can take care of myself, Brian. I'll be able to answer the phone on my own. I'll be able to talk to Aunt Alicia on my own. I'll be able to make it to Ten Acres on my own. And I'll even see you and the rest of our family at Honey's house soon."

Brian gave her a sheepish look. "Don't mind me. I'm still a little overprotective of you." He gave her a quick hug and then started out the door. "I'll see you up at the party." He waved and then took the porch steps two at a time, noticing that only a thin sliver of the sun was visible over the horizon. Night would be falling soon. Enjoying the solitude of the evening, reveling in the fact that he was blessfully and blissfully alone for the eight minute walk to the Manor House, his feet followed the path of their own accord, taking him past the familiar and beloved surroundings. He caught a flash of movement up ahead and chuckled when he recognized the form of his best friend. Jim was on his way to Ten Acres. Smirking, he realized that Jim had a good half hour of waiting time before Trixie would be free to meet him. His friend must be overly anxious, Brian thought to himself. He didn't call out to him, knowing that Jim needed the privacy as much as he did to mentally prepare himself for the meeting, and decided that he would let Jim find out from Trixie that she was well aware of the fact that he hadn't been allowed to date her until she graduated from high school on his own.

Brian waited until Jim was out of sight before moving forward. He used the time wisely, trying to get himself ready. Fragments of different speeches came to him. Some he discarded; others he thought were worth keeping. He only hoped he would be able to remember at least one of them when the time came. Too caught up in his thoughts, he didn't realize that he was standing at the end of the path until the Manor House was standing before him in all of its impressive glory.

He stared at the house, taking a long moment to appreciate it, and recalled what it used to look like when he was younger, before the Wheelers had moved in and turned it into a home. Then it had seemed overly large, extremely imposing and very unfriendly, with an aura of intimidation surrounding it. The size and shape of the house hadn't changed but, with the welcoming lights twinkling inside, the countless blue and white balloons that were attached to the porch railing and were bopping along with in the breeze, and the cheerful flowers popping up from the extremely well-manicured flower beds, it looked friendly and inviting. It didn't overwhelm him. Countless vehicles were parked along the driveway, a testament to the amount of cherished friends and family members that the three girls had. Many people had come to congratulate the girls on their special evening. One special girl was uppermost in his mind. Ready to see her, a half-smile on his face, Brian walked up to the front door.

Knowing that knocking wasn't necessary, he turned the handle of the unlocked front door and let himself in, right into the beautifully decorated foyer. It was arrayed in the school color's of blue and white, with streamers, balloons and carnations galore exploding around him in a cacophony of celebration. He took it in and then listed to the music and murmurs that came from the large living room, the place where the part was in full swung. He followed the sound without hesitating.

"Hi, Brian!" Di greeted him happily from within the circle of Mart's arms as soon as he arrived. She floated over to him with her boyfriend at her heels and pulled Brian inside the room that rang with merriment. Gesturing towards the room at large, she added, "Isn't it perfectly lovely in here? Everyone has come to celebrate."

Mart had a stupid grin on his face. Brian had seen that grin on Mart's face many times since he had returned from college. It was all due to the fact that one Diana Lynch was now his girlfriend. For the first time he could ever remember he found himself envying his younger brother and what he had. Unconsciously, he sought out Honey, who was chatting with Miss Trask and Mrs. Vanderpoel. She could put that stupid grin on his face. He knew it.

Mart let go of Di's shoulder long enough to nudge his brother. "Hey, Brian," he remarked in a tone he generally reserved for Trixie. "You've got to pay attention, big brother. You're turning into our harebrained sister." Sighing dramatically, he explained, "We've been trying to ask you a question for the past minute."

Dan sauntered up behind them, having heard every word that they had said. He had held back at the ceremony, believing it hadn't been the time to poke fun at his friends. Now that the graduation ceremony was over and the party had started, he figured that both Jim and Brian were fair game. "Cut him some slack, Mart," he advised, although the glint in his eyes belied his words. He clapped a hand on Brian's shoulder. "This guy's got a big night here, bigger than the girls' night, even. You know that. It's finally that day he's been pining for. It's June 20, Mart, in case you didn't know." An exaggerated roll of the eyes completed his speech.

Brian's gaze went hot. He stared from Dan's mischievously grinning face to Mart's low chuckles and ended up on Di's guilty look. Thinking back to what he had recently learned from Trixie, he suppressed a groan. Obviously Di knew, too. Although it took a considerable amount of effort to ignore Dan and his irritating remarks, he focused on his brother with a look that should have made him squirm. It didn't. With his girlfriend at his side, Mart was immune to his older brother's displeasure. "Even Di, Mart?"

Understanding what his brother was asking immediately, Mart nodded unashamedly and held his hands out, palms up. "She doesn't like it when I keep secrets, Brian. I can't do it to her. You'll have to forgive me."

Di's giggle was half-embarrassed, half-pleased. She moved in closer to the eldest member of their group and gave him a gentle prod in the right direction before Brian became frustrated with the other two in their group. "You probably didn't notice it since Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum have taken their comedy act on the road but Honey just left the room, Brian. If I know Honey, and, believe me, I do," she was quick to say, "I'll bet she's heading out to the porch for some night air and some solitude." She gave Mart and Dan an imperial look. "We'll run a bit of interference for you, won't we, gentleman?"

Not cowed by the way Di was looking at them, Dan and Mart agreed with deep chuckles that had Brian's cheeks turning an even brighter red. He nodded curtly in acknowledgement and tried to make his way unobtrusively through the crowd, greeting the people he saw politely and respectfully but not staying any longer than necessary. He didn't attempt to offer an in-depth conversation with anyone. Both sets of parents followed his progress, saw him make it to the doorway and out into the hall, and exchanged bittersweet smiles. Then the fathers headed to Matthew's den, in desperate need of something stronger to drink other than water, sweetened iced tea or carbonated soda.

On quiet feet, Brian made it down the hall and out the side door. When he didn't see anyone through the glass window he hesitatingly slipped through, searching the shadows but not finding anyone on his first perusal. Maybe she hadn't come out to the porch like Di had said. Maybe she had gone to the kitchen for more food or maybe up to her room to do some girly thing he didn't have a clue about. He had to shake away the alluring images of Honey, alone in her room, that assaulted him. "Hello?" he murmured quietly, not wanting to call any attention from the partygoers inside the house, and waited for a response. The last thing he wanted was an audience. He could only imagine how much Dan would enjoy a first class ticket.

Honey came out of the shadows by the corner of the porch, astonished that he was here. She wouldn't presume that he had followed her. The second she had seen him arrive at the party she had known that she had to find a private place, somewhere, anywhere, where she could collect her thoughts and get her rampaging feelings under control. She wasn't sure if she had succeeded in her endeavor. "Hello, Brian," she said, pleased with the quiet tone of her voice although her heart was racing as fast as Jupiter had ever galloped through the preserve.

"Honey," Brian answered, leaving his post by the door with a deep sense of relief. She was here. He joined her in the corner of the porch, noting on some level of awareness that the night was descending rapidly. The only light they had was from the rapidly disappearing sun. Unsure what to do with his hands, he kept them in the pockets of his khakis and desperately tried to remember anything of what he had planned to say to her but he didn't have a clue how to start. Her big, doe-like eyes made him forget what he wanted to say. Searching in vain for something, he settled upon, "It's a nice party," and then felt like an absolute idiot. He shuffled his feet from side to side.

Why, he's nervous! Honey thought incredulously, her eyes flaring open wide in surprise. In all of the years she had known him, she had never witnessed a nervous Brian Belden before. It didn't fit in with the picture she had of him. He always seemed so calm, in control, and, well, sensible. It was oddly enjoyable to witness him being unruffled, for once, and made her feel less juvenile and more grown-up, as if she was on an even footing with him and not just a teenager anymore. Her lips began to tickle with a mirth she had trouble containing. "It certainly is," she responded, not helping him out in the least.

She hadn't given him anything, he thought with a sinking feeling. "Your, uh, your parents and Miss Trask did a nice job of organizing it," he remarked inanely.

She pursed her lips together and nodded solemnly. "I agree." Oh, it was great fun to see Brian acting so uncertain and tentative. She intentionally didn't say a thing, only waited for him to continue, with a Mona Lisa-type smile on her lips.

It was more difficult than he had expected it to be. Feeling the flush start to climb across his cheeks, he grasped at another straw. "Your graduation ceremony was nice," he blurted out, thinking that he was about as smooth as the jagged chain on a chainsaw.

Honey strolled across the porch to the porch swing, feeling empowered by his stilted responses. The swing swayed gently when she gracefully sat down, smoothing her skirt around her legs. She glanced back at him. Muffled voices could be heard from the party inside but no one had come out to join them. She hoped no one would. She wanted her time with Brian to be exclusive. "I liked it," she responded truthfully. "It was extremely memorable and meaningful to me. The only fault I have with it is that it went by way too quickly."

Brian walked over to her, wondering where his confidence had suddenly gone to. He resisted the urge to pull at the collar of his shirt. Barely. Then he cleared his throat and stood next to her, leaning up against the post and trying for an aura of sophistication. "Trixie said the opposite. She thought it dragged on."

"I doubt if she heard any of the ceremony," Honey answered after her laughter died down. "I could see her profile from where I sat in the back row. From what I could tell she didn't pay the least bit of attention to what was being said." It hadn't been hard for Honey to decipher that Trixie had spent ninety percent of the ceremony staring at her adopted brother.

"No, she didn't." Wondering how to get off the mundane topic of graduation and onto the something he really wanted to talk about, Brian switched topics again, finding comfort with the neutral ones, "I'll miss you the next couple of days at the pool."

All graduates had the end of the week and the entire weekend off. Honey didn't have to report back to the Country Club until Monday morning, bright and early. Pleased that he realized she wouldn't be there lifeguarding besides him, Honey took pity on him and helped him open the subject that he wanted to bring up. "I'm looking forward to having the next few days off. Trixie, Di and I are going to hang out. We have a few plans already in the works. But I've also been looking forward to something else." Her pause was intentional, as was her uplifted eyebrow.

"What's that?" Brian asked after he was able to find his voice.

"It seems to me that you promised me a 'good' talk a few weeks ago." She pointed to the spot around the corner in case she needed to jog his memory. "I believe it was right over there where you asked me to wait until my graduation for our talk. I've been patient, Brian." She wasn't brave enough yet to bring up the fact that he had kissed her. Bringing her curious eyes up to meet his, she pushed him gently and with the tact that she was known for, "I've been waiting, just like you asked me to, but I think I've waited long enough. It's June 20, Brian. Now it's your turn to talk to me." She folded her hands, placed them in her lap, and looked at him expectantly.

She wasn't going to make it easy. Brian closed his eyes, pondering how the hell he had been able to memorize the elements on the periodic table in record time but he couldn't seem to find the right words to share with Honey everything he wanted to tell her. The words were enticing him, hovering just out of his reach, and beyond him. He could almost visualize them. For the second time that evening, he found himself envying Mart again, wishing that he had his brother's eloquent speech and thought wildly that he should have had Mart prepare him a set of cards to assist him with his talk. "You're right, Honey. It is June 20," he agreed, stalling while he hurriedly tried to think of some way to continue.

She would have been worried if she hadn't seen how he had watched her during the graduation ceremony. She would have been scared if she hadn't realized that he had intentionally followed her out of the party. She would have been anxious if her lips hadn't started tingling in anticipation again the second he had come onto the porch. It was unusually sweet to see Brian flustered and disconcerted. Gently nudging the porch floor, sending the swing in a soothing flowing motion, she agreed instantly, her tone carefree and easy, "Yes. June 20, Brian. My graduation day."

He thought they had established the date and its importance well. It was a fact that couldn't be disputed. Images of his college professors comically analyzing his performance ran through his head. They would have given him high marks for making the date clear and describing its importance but he knew he was plummeting fast and failing miserably when it came to moving the conversation ahead. He ran a hand through his dark hair, messing it up in such a way that made her fingers itch to fix it, and stated the obvious, "Yeah. I want to talk to you."

Honey couldn't wait any longer. She was impatient. It was probably a fall-out from spending too much time with Trixie over the years. Blowing out a breath of air, she delved into her stash of courage and threw it out there, needing to see what he would do with it. "You asked me three weeks ago to wait until today for us to talk. You said it would be a 'good' talk. I promised you that I would wait and I have. Now it's your turn to make good on your promise, Brian. In case you haven't missed the fact, it's finally the day." She took a deep breath and added strongly, forcing her eyes to stay on his and not drop to the floor in embarrassment, "I want to know why you kissed me."

His mouth fell open. Never had he expected Honey to force the issue. He had imagined he would have had to spend a few more awkward minutes of hemming and hawing before he got down to it. Impressed and grateful, he nodded his head, feeling his feet slide back under him. The ice was broken. He overlooked the fact that he hadn't meant to kiss her fully on her lips, that the kiss had happened accidentally. It may not have started out as an intentional kiss but it had certainly ended up as one. "There are many reasons why I kissed you," he declared fiercely and then came to a stop.

When he didn't continue, only stared down at her on the swing, she felt a spark flare up within her. Whether it was a spark of impatience, frustration or the stirrings of anger at his slow pace, she couldn't tell. It was hard to tamp down on it but she managed, most likely because of the intense way he was staring at her. Honey searched for the right tone, not wanting to sound too sarcastic but not wanting to be too easy with him, either. "Would you care to enlighten me as to the many reasons?" she prodded, breaking into the newest round of silence.

He saw the way she started to tap her toe against the porch floor, noted the way her one hand was fisted around the chain of the swing, and was delighted with the fact that she was showing that her patience had been stretched to the limit. He liked seeing an impatient Honey Wheeler. It went against what he knew about her, proved to him beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was a lot more to discover, and also showed him that he would enjoy exploring the many sides of her. "There are a lot of reasons, Honey. I'm good at lists so I'll be glad to list them off for you. First and foremost, there's the fact that you are a beautiful woman." The compliment was sincere, came straight from his eyes to her.

She felt the prickles of annoyance quickly fade away. The compliment touched her deeply, especially when she saw the sincerity behind it. He meant it. It floored her. She could never remember anyone calling her anything besides 'pretty'. It was her turn to blush, stutter and stammer. "I, ahh.."

He liked the pink color that flared in her cheeks. He took a step closer to the swing. "There's also the fact that I like the way your lips look. They are really soft and full and you've generally chewed your lipstick off ten seconds after you've applied it. That's a habit of yours that I've always found undeniably sexy."

Sexy? Her mind screamed. He thought that she was sexy? Forget beautiful. She had never, ever considered herself or anything that she did sexy. Honey's mouth went slack. Her mind clicked off. There was no denying it. She was going to melt into a puddle at his feet. She unconsciously licked her lips, felt the lack of the lipstick she had touched up only fifteen minutes earlier, and smiled weakly. "That's a bad habit of mine," she remarked mindlessly. The chain provided support while she slowly stood up from the swing. Somehow it seemed to be better for her equilibrium to be standing. At least then she was on even footing with him. "I, well, I guess I should probably stop wearing it."

He got distracted by the way she checked her lipstick and had to remember what he had wanted to say. He took a small step forward. "There are many more reasons why I kissed you, but, Honey, there is only one more really important one."

Drawn to him, she answered his step with one of her own. Their toes almost touched. "What…what is that one?" Her words were low and husky. She could hardly believe that the tone was coming from her mouth. It sounded older, more mature, and definitely not like her normal voice. Her hands played nervously with the yellow skirt of her dress. She didn't feel the softness of the material. She didn't hear the natural symphony provided by the summer crickets. She only saw him. Her eyes begged him to tell her more, to find out why he had wanted to kiss her.

"You," he replied, his voice low, deep and throaty. "It's you, Honey. It's always been you. Even when I was up to my neck in thick textbooks, exams, papers and grades over the past three years of college, you've been there, just beyond my every thought, just out of my reach. I've wanted to kiss you for a long, long time." It was all true. He had tried his best not to focus on his feelings for Honey, had worked doubly hard to concentrate on his school work and only his school work, and had succeeded almost too well. The cancellation of his summer internship was turning out to be the biggest present of all for him. It allowed him to focus on something that was becoming vital to him. Honey Wheeler.

Her chest rose and fell. His admissions were seared into her heart. She knew she would relive this night over and over again. When his hands hesitatingly circled her waist, she took the final step and came even closer, giving him unspoken permission to increase his hold. "Is that all?" she wondered aloud as she tilted her head back.

"Not quite. I like kissing you, Honey Wheeler. I like kissing you a lot." There was more to tell, more to share, but he pushed it back and did what he had wanted to do since she had closed the front door behind him on prom night. He held her against him and lowered his mouth, this time knowing without a doubt what his intentions were and how she was going to receive him. There wasn't anything accidental about this kiss. His hands moved of their own volition, framing her heart-shaped face tenderly while he sustained eye-contact the entire time. This kiss wasn't given out of shock and surprise. His mouth came down, so slowly and deliberately, giving her plenty of time if she had second thoughts. She didn't. Of course she didn't. When their lips touched she made the sweetest sound he had ever heard. Somewhere between a sigh and a murmur, she closed her eyes, cutting off the visual and relying on the sensual, and responded. He brought her into the kiss, moving slowly and tenderly the entire time.

Honey wasn't about to be the one to pull back first. Her hand fisted in the material of his shirt, bunching it up reflexively when she felt the wonder of the experience flow over and upon her. It wasn't something she had ever dreamed was possible. It was even better than their first one, most likely because they were both expecting it. It also helped to know ahead of time about the time limit that had existed between them, thanks to her parents good-intentioned if slightly annoying interference. She let the kiss slide over her like the sweetness of the evening breeze blowing around them and held on dearly, not unwilling to ever let him go.

Eons later, when he reluctantly drew back from her intoxicating lips and a series of kisses that had only seemed to get better and better with each passing second, Brian his laid his head on her forehead, still needing more of a connection than the hands that rested at her narrow waist. "You have no idea how long I've waited to do that, to really do that. Again," he added on small, wry laugh.

"I think I may," Honey hastened to assure him, her lovely hazel eyes peeping whimsically up at him while a feline smile of contentment floated across her lips. Feeling more certain of herself than she ever had before, she added teasingly, consciously opening up the next subject they needed to discuss, "Three years, right?"

The implication of her words caught him quickly. It helped that Trixie had mentioned earlier that she had been aware of the promise he had made to his parents. It doubly helped that he had learned that Di knew about the promise. Staring up at the ceiling, he wondered why he and Jim hadn't had it tattooed across their chests. Everyone knew. Sucking in a deep breath, he stated evenly, feeling like a parrot who kept repeating himself, "You know, too."

"Well, Trixie is my best friend," Honey answered defensively. She ran a finger along the smooth edge of the railing, keeping her eyes averted from his. "And, if it makes you feel any better," she put in haltingly, "I was the last one to know out of the all of the Bob-Whites. From the way I understand it, apparently Jim had told Dan a few weeks ago. Then you told Mart. That's when Trixie overheard you. Of course, Mart told Di shortly afterwards. Me, well, I only found out this past Sunday when Trixie, Di and I were at the clubhouse, looking through the prom pictures and waiting for our men to come back with the food."

"It turns out it's extremely hard to keep a secret within this group," he muttered cynically, digesting the news slowly. The news shouldn't have caught him by surprise. Clearing his throat, suddenly feeling a return of the attack of his nerves, he asked, "What…ah…what do you think about it?"

Honey took her time answering. His hands were still at her waist, grounding her and keeping her focused and, more importantly, connected to him. Their chests were almost touching, with only the barest amount of space between them. Her hand was still at his side, holding. She didn't attempt to move it. She liked touching him. She liked it a lot. And she could still feel the pressure of his lips against hers. "You wanted to date me three years ago. You wanted to start dating before you went to college but our parents wouldn't allow it. They thought I was too young and you were too mature," she recapped slowly. The answer to the next question meant the world to her. "Do you still want to date me?"

His response was immediate and swift. "God, yes, Honey! I want to date you now."

Her smile was dazzling in its brilliance. She gave into her earlier urge, not afraid of making a fool of herself in front of him anymore. She tossed herself against him with a gleeful cry, felt his arms close around her with the strength of twin steel bands, and gave a deep, relieved sigh of pure joy. "Oh, that sounds perfectly perfect," she breathed out and smiled against his chest.

He could feel the imprint of her lips through his shirt and held on tighter, astonished to realize how much he had been missing out on during the past three years. He was beyond grateful that his sentence was over. "Do you care that we couldn't date earlier?" He nuzzled the top of her head.

She shook her head. Her hair tickled his nose and lapsed into her trademark Honey-speech. "No. I mean, I wasn't ecstatic or anything when Trixie and Di told me about it a few days ago, but, well, I guess it doesn't matter anymore, not really. Does it? When you think about it, we've got the whole summer ahead of us to make up for lost time."

He had serious plans for their summer. Grinning, all nerves gone, he decided that she was right. The time was up, they were free to date, and that was all that he cared about, too. She was his girlfriend. It didn't matter if their parents were right or wrong in making them wait to date. It couldn't matter. All that mattered to him was the fact that their time as a couple had finally arrived. "I can't tell you how much I'm really looking forward to this summer," he whispered into her ear before taking her lips again in another series of long, lingering kisses.

When she finally remembered that she needed to breathe, Honey opened her eyes and gasped, amazed at the sight in front of her. Brian. Darkened by the shadows. With a light that she was becoming quickly adept at identifying as desire and something much deeper and more infinite shining brightly in his eyes, she leaned in closer, drawn to him even further, and put her head on his chest. It felt like she had been created for the simple action. His arms came up around her, pressing her to him. "It's going to be a great summer," Honey murmured into his chest.

The best. He hugged her to him, thinking that he was going to have to remember to thank his would-be advisor once college started up in the fall. She had made it all possible. "I can't wait to see what happens," he whispered hoarsely. The possibilities were endless and stretched out before them.

Amazed that she had the right to touch him now, Honey sank further against him and enjoyed the feel of his body against hers. Then the murmurs of the party sank in, drawing her back into reality. Reluctantly, she stepped back, realizing that they had been away from the party for an exceedingly long time. "Do you, ah, think we should go back inside? They're probably wondering where we are at."

There wasn't a person inside who hadn't figured it out by now, he thought dryly but kept the thought to himself. He didn't want to embarrass her. "Let's stay here for a few more minutes," he suggested instead, dropping his head on top of hers. His hands wrapped around her slender waist, unable and completely unwilling to let go. He told her that, the words and actions sending shocks of pleasure shooting all the way down to her toes. "I can't seem to let you go right now."

She was having the same problem. Honey gave a silly laugh but stayed right where she was, in his competent arms. It was quickly turning into her favorite place to be, just like she knew it would be. "Let's wait right here, then. We can always go back inside later." Together they stood on the porch, hands wrapped around each other, with no words to break the spell being wound around them. The moon began to send silvery fingers of light their way, bathing their contented faces while neither made a move to leave. Both basked in the freshness of the feelings surrounding them, savoring the tacit promise of the beginning of their new relationship, while the party continued without them. They weren't missed.


	61. Chapter 60 Final Chapter

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Sixty-Final Chapter

"Yes, Aunt Alicia. I'll be sure to give everyone your best when I see them up at the party." Trixie tried to sound happy and chirpy, to keep the annoyance from creeping out into her voice, but was afraid that her patience had been as stretched as far as it could go. She had been trying, quite unsuccessfully, to end the phone call for the past five minutes. Tapping her foot on the worn tile of the kitchen floor, she eyed the clock and swallowed back her third sigh in the past minute, doing her best not to get her hopes up that her aunt was actually getting ready to say farewell and mean it. "Yes. That's right. I'll give Moms your message. She'll call you tomorrow. I'll see to it. No, no. I won't forget. Thanks so much for calling, Aunt Alicia. All right. Really, I appreciate it. Thanks again. Yes, I will. Good-bye." She placed the phone back in its base with a tremendous feeling of relief and dropped her head back, hardly daring to believe that the call was well and truly finished and that she was free. Free! "Finally!" Trixie announced loudly to the kitchen, letting out a small whoop.

Wanting to be as prepared as possible, Trixie hurried down the hall and into the downstairs bathroom. Leaning into the mirror, she checked her reflection quickly, searching for any flaw she could correct before heading up to Ten Acres. The young woman who stared back at her gave her a momentary pause. She looked much different than the one in her mirror before her graduation. Definitely older, more mature, and with a hope of a different light gleaming in her blue eyes. After running a brush over her curls and splashing cool water on her face to tamp down on the flush that was already starting to form at the mere thought of Jim's name, she turned on her heels. Her feet ate up the hallway on her way back. She made it into the kitchen in record time, her mind in the clearing where the old mansion had once proudly and then not-so-proudly stood.

"I'll see you in a while. Hopefully I'll have something absolutely, positively wonderful to share with you," she murmured to Reddy, bending down to give him an affectionate rub on the head, feeling a little foolish for talking to a canine, even a smart and well-loved dog like theirs. He stared wisely back at her and barked once, as if he was in complete agreement with her. After one last pat, she opened the back door. It carelessly banged shut behind her as she skipped out of the house and down the steps, taking them as fast as she could without tripping, eager for the most exciting and anticipated part of her evening to start.

Her eagerness started to fade away when she got a close look of her surroundings. It wasn't the place that made her stop; it was the time of day. Her steps slowed until she came to a complete stop where her back yard ended and the trail that led up to Ten Acres began. Glancing back, she saw the approaching shadows and the almost non-existent sun that hung exceedingly low in the sky, barely gracing the horizon with its shimmering presence, and felt a shiver work its way through her body. It was going to be dark, very soon. Night was on its way. There was about thirty more minutes of precious daylight left if she was lucky. The breath she sucked in was sharp, short and very nearly painful. It was the first time she had been outside during nighttime since…the memories of the last time she had been out in the woods in the dark threatened to overtake her. Unwilling to give in to them, she resolutely pushed them away, telling herself she was not going to let the effects of that damn night spoil her evening, and focused all of her thoughts and energy on Jim. He was waiting, he was waiting, kept running through her mind like a well-versed litany, helping her keep the terrifying memories that still had the power to haunt her at bay. Inhaling deeply, thinking of Jim and only of Jim, she found the courage from within to start her trek into the woods.

Even with the memories successfully subdued, Trixie moved much slower than her normal pace. Recollections of her life with Jim as one of her best friends came back to her, replacing the unpleasant memories from a few weeks ago. Her happy memories started from the very first time she had seen him, sleeping on that old mattress in Ten Acres with the christening mug and an ugly old shotgun next to him and ended with the night they had fallen asleep together in her house, on what should have been her prom night. Each memory was powerful and cherished and proved to her why the outcome of their meeting was extremely important to her, why it had the potential to be the most vital occasion to ever have happened to her, much more important than earning her high school diploma or even receiving her acceptance letter into college. It was difficult for her not to build up her hopes. She tried hard to tell herself to keep her feet on the ground, both literally and figuratively, to not get lost in what could be considered a silly, fanciful, high-school girlish daydream, but she wasn't as successful as she hoped to be. She couldn't get around the fact that Jim was willingly waiting. For her. Jim wanted to talk. To her. Jim wanted to be alone. With her. And Jim had made a promise, three years earlier, to his parents. Knowing James Winthrop Frayne the Second as well as she did, almost better than she knew herself, she realized that he would never, ever have been able to break the promise he had given his parents. His word would have bound him tighter than the strongest rope or the toughest chain ever could. But his promise was now a mute point. The high school diploma that was sitting on her kitchen table effectively freed him from it, liberating him if his aim was still the same. She wished it was the same. If he still wished to date her, like he had three years earlier, then everything was finally going to be complete in her world.

The last bend in the path before Ten Acres stood before her. All she would have to do was take about twelve steps, round the corner, and then she would see him. Every hope, every desire, every wish that she ever had must have shown plainly on her face. She knew it. She could feel it. Trixie rubbed a hand over her face, wanting to at least attempt to conceal her feelings from him. If he didn't feel the same anymore, if he only wanted to congratulate her on her graduation, if he only wanted to remain friends…the if only's were almost worse than the not knowing what he wanted to talk about. She was smart enough to realize that it was something much deeper than finding out why Dan had managed to annoy him before their movie night together. "Calm down," she ordered herself fiercely. "Don't go off on a wild tangent like you've been known to do so before. Get it together, Belden, and, more importantly, keep it together." Breathing in and out didn't help in the least. Neither did trying to picture her last trigonometry class with a solemn-faced Mr. Jenkins who had still been valiantly trying to teach mathematics to an extremely bored and exceedingly unimpressed senior class. Her last resort at trying to regain a semblance of control was her brother, Mart. He never failed her. He didn't now. Recalling how he had ruffled her hair and then offered her a sarcastic chuckle, along with a sardonic congratulations that was completely characteristic to their relationship to her when they had arrived home, brought her back to earth and chased away her doubts and fears better than the cool water she had splashed on her face. _See?_ Mart had joked to her the second she had stepped out of the van when they had returned home over an hour ago. _I told you it wasn't that hard to get a high school diploma. They give them out to anyone nowadays, even to mathematically-challenged would-be sleuths like you_. Trixie covered her mouth to prevent an unladylike snort from escaping. Feeling more grounded, ready and prepared to meet Jim without melting into a figurative puddle of high hopes and bottomless fears at his feet the second she saw him, she started forward on the last leg of the path, moving the most leisurely she had ever gone, and made it to the edge of the path. She tried to call out to him, to let him know that she was there, but she couldn't force anything past her suddenly dry throat. She had to settle for cautiously looking around the clearing for him.

Even though she moved silently and didn't announce her presence, Jim felt her the second she arrived. He always knew when she was near, whether she was loud and boisterous or quiet and thoughtful. It was an innate part of him, his overly alert radar for the buoyant blonde, and was something he had managed to perfect over the years without much of an effort. She was an ingrained part of his soul. Hands on his hips, he stiffened from his position across the overgrown lawn, and closed his eyes, praying that he was ready, able and that Trixie would be more than willing to hear what he had to tell her. No, he thought to himself, showing her would be better. Trixie always preferred action over words. With green eyes intentionally hooded, keeping what he wanted to share hidden until the time was right, he slowly turned around to face her, a new plan already rapidly forming in his mind.

A good fifteen feet of plush green grass, clusters of colorful wildflowers, and a few thick tree stumps separated them. The last rays of the day fell over and around them, illuminating each with the gentle and the golden light, almost as if Mother Nature had deliberately and thoughtfully offered them a natural spotlight for their use only. They were caught in each other's stares, both hiding the twin nerves that were running through them. Jim took in everything about her, extremely appreciative of the fact that she had chosen to stay in her graduation dress. The deep, vibrant blue served as a perfect match to the vivaciousness of her personality, making her stand out against the woodsy background and the coming shadows, and forcing his fingers to tingle with the need to touch the smoothness of the material again, as well as the skin that lay underneath it.

Trixie saw the way his eyes flared, correctly guessed that it had to do with her dress. It turned out both Di and Honey had been correct, she realized with an inward, hysterical giggle that she absolutely refused to release. They had both ordered her to stay dressed up for the party, had each promised her an extremely dire consequence if she showed up to the Manor House in her comfortable jean shorts and t-shirt, which had been her intention all along. She ran an agitated hand over her skirt and, sucking in a deep, fortifying breath, broke the frozen tableau of two that they were stuck in, bravely taking the first steps in closing the short distance that existed between them, but she still couldn't find it within her to utter a single word. Her brain seemed to have been frozen and her mouth wouldn't cooperate, not even to come up with one easy and routine syllable like 'hi'.

As if he was attached to her by an invisible string, Jim moved towards her, without speaking a word, until they met in the middle of the clearing, in exactly the same place where the summerhouse had been located before the ancient, broken-down building had been torn down and then leveled soon after the fire that had destroyed the mansion. Keeping his hands fisted at his side, a small smile that she couldn't ever remember seeing playing across his lips, he looked down at her. Her eyes were still the same blue that haunted his dreams. Her nose was still as pert and sprinkled with the freckles that he thought were adorable. Her lips still fell open the same way they always did when she was busily thinking or contemplating or putting together the latest piece of a puzzle of one of her mysteries. But she was different to him somehow. Maybe it was because she wasn't off limits any longer. Maybe it was because he could finally share everything he ever wanted to share with her, every secret, every thought, and every not so innocent touch, should she allow him to. Whatever the reason for the change, whether it came from an innate part of her or from his own perception of her, he didn't care. It was there. It was time for him to find out what it meant. "You made it, Trixie," he said softly, breaking the silence around them.

She would not giggle. She would absolutely not giggle, she told herself firmly, not wanting to appear like an adolescent school girl in front of him on what could be the most important night of her life. "Yes," she answered when she was certain that her voice wouldn't wobble or sound foolish to him. "Aunt Alicia was very prompt in calling. However, she was not very prompt in ending the phone call." She was satisfied with her light, lilting laugh.

He had never heard her laugh like that before. It sounded odd. Studying her closer, he saw how she was unconsciously bunching and unbunching the material of her skirt, how she kept moving from one foot to the other, proof that she was more nervous and anxious than the wobbly smile she had painted on her lips or the trilling laugh she had just employed. "How is your Aunt Alicia?" He didn't particularly care one way or another but he wanted to put her at ease. She needed to be comfortable around him.

Trixie's laugh sounded more natural this time, as was the sarcastic roll of her eyes. "She's fine. I have to remember to thank Brian, though. He really saved me from a lot of embarrassment during our phone call. He gave me his program from my graduation with a few notes written in the margins. He wrote down things that the guest speaker had said, as well as a few quotes from Mr. Stratton. He must have remembered that Aunt Alicia had interrogated him after his graduation. Thanks to Brian and his cheat sheet, I was able to answer her questions about the ceremony without too much of a problem." And without sounding too much like an idiot, she thought but didn't voice it. Jim never liked it when she put herself down.

He wouldn't have been able to answer a single question about the ceremony, had anyone thought to ask him. Watching Trixie had been a much more delightful pursuit of his time than paying attention to the actual ceremony. Not a single word had sunk into him. He was proud of the fact that he had managed to at least watch all three female Bob-Whites receive their diplomas. "You didn't pay attention to the ceremony, either," Jim noted easily.

Too edgy, she missed the 'either' and the connotation it brought with it. "Nope," she answered solemnly with a small shrug of her shoulder. "Not that I should be surprised or anyone else should be, for that matter. I spent most of my high school years daydreaming my way through my classes. I guess it's not that big of a shock that I did the same through the graduation ceremony." Then she wished she could have taken back her choice of words and felt her cheeks turn a red. Admitting she had been daydreaming was not the best way to go, especially when the object of many of her daydreams, both in school and from the graduation ceremony, was standing right in front of her.

He wondered what she had been daydreaming about and if it was anything close to what he had been fantasizing about in his mind but he didn't ask. If he had, he would have had to tell his private thoughts to her. Jim ran a hand through his hair, unsure about starting the next phase of their conversation. The small talk section of their evening was waning. He knew where he wanted to go but was at a loss on how to take her there. "You graduated, Trix. Congratulations."

She didn't hear him. Her eyes had immediately found the scar on his forearm. It was long, jagged, ugly and also brought the memories back that she had worked so hard to suppress on her walk through the woods. "Oh, Jim," she mumbled before she could stop herself, her eyes welling up with sympathy for him and self-recrimination for herself.

He heard the hitch to her voice, saw where her eyes had rested, and hid his own sigh. The next topic wasn't one of his choosing, was well off of where he wanted to be, but it had to be handled, in the most delicate yet truthful way possible. "It's okay, Trixie," he told her soothingly, wanting to take away the guilty look on her face. He hated the fact that she felt responsible for his injury. "Really. You don't have to worry about it. My cut is healed."

She had the same reaction every time she saw his scar. Sympathy always warred with guilt; pride for him always fought with shame that she had unwittingly placed him in such a precarious position. She couldn't help but feel responsible for it and absolutely despised the scar. He had to wear a permanent reminder of that night in the woods. It wasn't okay, would never be okay, but she didn't argue with him. "I'm so sorry about it," she offered haltingly instead, her voice a little sad and a little broken. "You probably have no idea how exceptionally sorry I am that it happened to you." And she was. The remorse was there, always just below the surface.

He held his arm out to her. "You can touch it if you want, Trix." When she hesitated, he added, "It is okay, despite what you think. It's just a scar. That's all." He watched as she haltingly brought her hand up and then carefully ran a finger along the scar, starting at his elbow and ending at his wrist. When she finished, he grabbed her hand and held on. "You see, Trix, there's nothing to it. Healed scar tissue. That's it. Nothing else. It doesn't mean a thing to me other than that."

She had wanted to touch it ever since he took the bandage off and was beyond thankful that he had invited her to do so. It helped her not to feel as guilty, just as he hoped it would. The skin had healed, exactly as he had said. It had felt well and truly real underneath her fingertips. Touching it hadn't hurt him or her. If anything, it had helped her to heal a little more. "I understand," she whispered soberly.

But she didn't. Not completely. Jim could still hear the remorse in her voice. He squeezed her hand tighter. "It's not your fault. You have nothing to feel sorry about," he said gruffly. Then he tried for some humor, wanting to get the lost look off of her face. "Besides, I have it on good authority that it's a pretty cool scar."

It worked. Surprised, she threw her head back, a startled laugh escaping her lips. "Who told you that?" she questioned in disbelief, allowing him to lead her away from the path that only led to pity and self-loathing.

He was relieved to see the return of humor to her eyes, as well as the fact that her hand was still wrapped carefully in his. "Dan, of course. He admired it the second I was able to take the bandage off of it." Their friend had admired it, right before he had launched into another one of his irritating and annoying fits of teasing at Jim's expense. Jim didn't share that part with her or the fact that their fellow Bob-White had been sending him countdown text messages for her graduation daily for the past three weeks. Dan had taken each and every one of his return comments in stride, letting Jim's acerbic words roll off of him and not affect. There was no doubt about it. He would get even with his friend. Someday.

Bringing up Dan forced her to remember why Jim had invited her to meet him here. He was supposed to tell her why Dan had irritated him so much and why he had wanted to punch the former gang member. Trixie dropped her hand from his and stared at him expectantly, unable to voice the question about why he had wanted to meet her, and felt her chest start to constrict. It was becoming difficult for her to breathe. She wasn't sure if it was nerves, fright, anticipation or a combination of all three or something entirely different. Whatever it was, she didn't ever want to experience it again in her life.

The nerves were back, ten-fold. He did not like seeing her nervous and uncertain of herself. Jim cursed himself for bringing up Dan's name and came to the sudden realization that he could take care of her nerves with one swift move, as well as show her exactly where he stood. Not many words would be needed. He had to call upon their first shared memories instead. Looking over his shoulder, he said, "Ten Acres sure has changed since the first time I stepped foot on it."

"Maybe not for the better," Trixie responded sarcastically, copying him and studying the large, nearly empty area. "As you know, the mansion is no longer here. Neither is the summerhouse," she added when he didn't respond. "There's not much here anymore, other than trees, grass and flowers."

He sent her a thoughtful look. "Do you ever wonder what happened to Queenie?" he wondered aloud after a long minute.

It took a minute to search her memory banks but she was able to pull it out. "The little black game hen?" she inquired in a tone of pure perplexity.

"She was a fierce little thing, definitely willing to protect her babies." Jim glanced into the thicket, almost able to picture the little hen. The time he had spent at Ten Acres had been the start of some of the most interesting and exciting adventures of his life. Glancing back at the quiet young woman in front of him, he knew that he owed it all to her, whether she would ever take credit for it or not.

Why on earth were they talking about Queenie, of all things? Trixie bit her bottom lip, as she was apt to do when she was nervous, and glanced back at him, eyeing him carefully. "Yeah. She certainly was."

"You look puzzled," Jim noted after a careful study of her face.

Bewildered was more like it. "Just a little," Trixie cautiously confessed, eyeing him even more carefully than she had before.

"You're smart, Trix. You'll catch on quick. I just want to lay a little groundwork for you. I think you'll appreciate it, once everything is all said and done." He rocked back on his heels and gave her an encouraging nod. "Just give me a minute here. That's all I ask of you."

Trixie would give him just about anything she could, no matter how big or how small it was. If he wanted to talk about wild fowl, she was all for it, she guessed. "All right." She tamped down on her curiosity, an almost impossible feat, but she tried her best, for him. "Please. Continue."

Jim's white teeth flashed in appreciation. He could see the effort it took for her not to break into a million and one questions. "There was also that poor dog," he added, thinking back to the mongrel that he had had to shoot. "Do you remember him? I felt horrible about that guy. I would have loved to have tried to tame him, had I been able to."

She narrowed her eyes, unsure where the trip down memory lane could be leading them, but gave him the benefit of the doubt as she had promised him she would and waited. It practically killed her to wait but she did. She remembered that particular summer well. It was one of her favorites. "That was a shame."

"And I seem to remember that you were extra brave with Bobby. Copperhead bite, wasn't it?" He knew perfectly well that it had been a copperhead. He merely wanted to see her reaction.

"It was a pretty scary time," Trixie murmured, shivering with the memory of the bite. It had been a long time since she had thought about how close Bobby had come to an extremely serious injury. "I certainly never want to relive that experience ever, ever again. Thank goodness all turned out well for Bobby."

"Thanks to your quick thinking," Jim remarked astutely, causing her face to flood with color. She never liked taking compliments, no matter how much she deserved them.

"That was a really good summer," Trixie said after a moment in a valiant attempt to figure out why he had brought it up. When she glanced around the clearing, she could almost see the outline of the ancient, ramshackle house that had once stood there and began to have an inkling about why he was discussing their very first adventure together. Most of it had happened right here, at Ten Acres. And they were two of the three key players in it. Only Honey was missing.

"Let's see how good your memory is," he announced, arching a challenging eyebrow. His was excellent. The memory of their first meeting had been seared into his soul a long time ago, never to be forgotten. It seemed like the perfect way to create a new and even more meaningful one, to build upon it and begin a brand-new relationship with her. "Shake," he said. "My name's Jim. What's yours?" His lips tilted up at the corner. He held his hand out to her, exactly as he had done so many years earlier, in a large paneled living room filled to the brim with junk and an old mattress.

A true laugh came. She knew her line well. Her blue eyes danced with absolute delight. It had been an important day to her, one that had changed her life in ways she hadn't fully understood until much later. It wasn't often that one could remember the exact moment, the exact wording, and the exact feeling one had when they met their soulmate. Accepting the hand shake the same way she had done on that fateful July day, quickly and easily and not noticing the tighter, firmer way he held onto her hand, as if he never wanted to lose contact with her, she recited her part cheerfully and confidently, her nerves receding exactly as he had planned, "I'm Trixie Belden and I live down there at Crab…" Then she got a good look at his face and swallowed back a gasp. All amusement fled but she had to press on. It wouldn't be complete if she didn't finish it. "Apple…Farm." Her voice trailed off. The desire to laugh was long gone, had died a quick and painless death the second she had looked into his face. Her heart started to pound in erratic beats. There was something so uniquely different, so raw, so passionate in his eyes. She couldn't mistake it. She couldn't ignore it. She certainly couldn't doubt it. All she could do was follow where he was silently asking her to go. Trixie let him pull her forward until she was flush against his chest.

Jim didn't say anything else. Words weren't necessary; would be needed later, much later, but the time was right for something more important and vital than mere words. Right now, all he wanted was the taste of her lips, letting her know what he desired with the piercing look to his eyes. Slowly, effortlessly, he lowered his mouth to hers, watching her blue eyes go even bigger and wider at his purposefully slow descent, giving her time to object should she want to, while the daylight slowly started to dissipate and the coming of the night began to encroach upon them.

Then his lips were on top of hers; hesitant at first, light and sweet, the way he wanted it to be, the way she needed it to be. It was hard for him to comprehend that it was finally happening, the moment he had dreamed about for so long, and that they were actually coming together. He kept the kiss easy and unbelievably sweet while he felt her arms slowly wind their way around his waist and travel up his back, telling him that she wanted more. The way she held on to him and then began to respond with her typical Trixie energy urged him to go further, to increase the pressure until he couldn't think any longer. The intruding darkness, the sounds of the summer night, the light wind blowing over and around them ceased to exist. The only thing that mattered was the woman in his arms.

Trixie was having trouble breathing. Her head spun, making rational thought impossible. His mouth had managed to destroy her, to knock her off balance so that the only way she could remain standing was to hold on to him. She did, by gripping his back as tightly as she could. He kept her fastened in reality while everything about her wanted to float far, far away. Her legs turned to jelly, her heart pounded at a rate that had to be lethal to her health, and her skin turned hot, much hotter than the summer evening called for. Closing her eyes to the astonishment of their shared experience, deciding that an analysis of the situation was seriously not wanted or needed, she let out a soft, wanton sigh of approval when his tongue flicked over her bottom lip.

He wanted deep, he wanted in, but he wasn't sure how far to push their first kiss or even if the series of kisses he was raining down on her mouth could still be considered a single kiss any longer. There had already been too many kisses for him to count. Desperately trying to regain control before his needs broke away from the tight rein he held on them, he reluctantly left his study of her mouth for the moment, hoping that the break may help him win over the powerful sensations that were threatening to burst like a keg of dynamite within him. He pressed a line of kisses from the edge of her jaw all the way down the line of her neck where the juvenile thought to brand her as his so the entire world would know it came over him but he managed to shake that one away. Her skin was as soft as he had imagined it to be and smelled clean, like the soap she always used. No perfumed smells for her which suited him just fine. He preferred the clean and natural versus the flowery and the pungent.

The tingle that had started in her stomach seemed to have grown into a wildfire that fed on the unfamiliar and the exhilarating. Trixie's head lolled back, unconsciously giving him better access to her neck, while bright lights popped behind her closed lids. One shock of pure pleasure melted into the next one, becoming a long line of seemingly endless sensations that wanted to overtake her in a way she had never, ever imagined possible. She gasped when he pulled a small bit of skin at her neck between his lips and then blew on it. Being in his arms, being the recipient of such caring passion, made her forget everything but him.

He wasn't ready to talk, doubted if he would be able to do something so mundane and routine ever again, not after the most momentous occasion of his life. They weren't simply starting a new relationship. They were blazing a new trail, one where the only possible ending for them was reminiscent of fairy tales and happily ever afters. He would see to that. He retraced his steps, making it back to her lips where he captured them again and poured everything of himself that he could into the next set of kisses. He pulled her bottom lip between his, gently sucking on it before he released it, only to slide his mouth across hers again and again. His hands started to get more adventurous while his confidence grew with each throaty murmur of approval that she made, spurring him on and making him want more of her. They roamed up and over her back, going lower than they had ever gone before, memorizing the feel of every muscle and every bone that they came into contact with. He couldn't let his hands stay still. He had to touch her, to feel the vibrations that were humming through her blood, causing her to quake. He had to mold her body to his, to learn every bit of her and to pull her as tightly as he could against him. There wasn't any doubt about that. His hands felt empty if he couldn't touch her in some way.

Trixie kept her eyes closed through it all, helping her to savor the intense feelings created by their first kiss. It went beyond anything she had ever imagined, included so much more than her innocent mind had been able to conjure up when she had attempted to picture what an honest-to-goodness real kiss with Jim Frayne would feel like. All she knew was that she didn't want it to stop. Ever. It was better than the most powerful superlative she could ever come up with. And then he took her mouth yet again, urging her to join in even more, and she was lost in another maelstrom of emotions. It felt like a dam had burst within her, exploding all throughout her, rearranging the Trixie that she had been into someone older, more confident and much, much wiser.

Jim felt her let go, completely and totally, and knew the exact second that she became an equal in the kiss, taking as well as giving. It was many, many kisses, countless kisses, with one ending and another beginning whenever one of them needed to break free for an annoying but much-needed supply of fresh air, he realized through the haze of thick fog that had suddenly taken up residence in his brain. With Trixie more than willing and responding in such a delightful and enchanting way, he couldn't help it and gave in to the urge and let his tongue find refuge within her mouth.

After a small millisecond of pure and total shock, she quickly decided that she more than enjoyed it and returned the favor. Her hand came to rest on the side of his face, pulling him even closer against her lips, while they dueled together, two friends who had willingly moved into a new, exciting and unchartered territory. Their bodies strained towards each other until it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

When Jim realized he was unconsciously searching out a soft, flat spot where they could move to for an even longer, more interesting exploration of each other, he began to slow down the urgency of their kisses, taking her back from the tempting ledge they had unknowingly been heading towards. They couldn't move that fast, no matter how much his body was screaming for something more. While he had known that kissing her would be amazing, he couldn't help but be surprised by the potency of the feelings that she had stirred so easily within him. But it was Trixie in his arms. He shouldn't have been surprised, shocked or even amazed. She was everything to him.

As his breathing slowed down and he gave one last kiss on her lips, he realized that the sensations pouring like rainwater through him were similar to how he would feel if he suddenly dove off of a high cliff into the unfamiliar below. Exhilaration, excitement, a rush of the most powerful adrenaline he had ever known, with even a tiny twinge of fear at the unknown. Kissing Trixie was the best, most wonderful experience he had ever had in his entire life. Keeping one hand at her waist and the other tangled around the curls in her hair, he reluctantly ended their latest kiss, his emerald eyes the darkest green they had ever been, while his breath came in deep, rasping pants that he had difficulty getting under control.

Trixie drew back from him, with lips gently swelling from his kisses, eyes closed while she put the feeling to memory, but she couldn't break complete contact. Hands resting at his waist, she slowly opened her eyes. Then she sought out his face, stunned to see the amount of passion and desire that was written plainly across him. For her. For Trixie Belden. She wouldn't have been able to decipher it an hour ago but, after being thoroughly and enjoyably kissed by him, she recognized the emotions and was astounded to her core. She could not believe, could not fathom, that another human being would have such a wealth of feelings stored up for her. It went beyond her, made her see herself in a brand new light, and the fact that Jim was the one that was looking at her like that made it even more special and cherished.

"I love you," she blurted out impulsively, then covered her mouth with her hand. A novice at this type of relationship, she was at least savvy enough to know that one didn't impulsively utter something like that after only a kiss, no matter how good the kiss had been. Maybe not a kiss, she had to admit to herself while her mind simply shut off, unable to come up with a single way to help her through her blunder. It had been more like an amazing, branding series of kisses instead of a single one but she was relatively certain that she shouldn't have declared her feelings so rapidly.

Hearing those three simple words coming his way out of her mouth shocked him, made his mind go blank for a moment and his eyes widen. Silence stretched on for a long minute while all he could do was gape at her. They were the absolute best words he had ever heard. He loved the way she looked shocked, astonished and even embarrassed at her own impulsivity. He didn't think he had ever seen her turn such a brilliant shade of red before. He loved the way she hadn't tried to hide it from him but had let the truth come out, even if it had been against her better judgment. It wasn't too early for such a declaration; it was exactly what he wanted to hear, what he had been planning on telling her once his brain had started functioning again. He appreciated the fact that there wasn't a single ounce of artifice to her. Everything about her was real and true. She would never be the type to play games or hide her feelings for some kind of a greater good. An extremely satisfied grin on his face, he pulled her back for another soft, drugging kiss before whispering hoarsely in her ear, "That's real good, Trix, because I love you, too."

"Ohhh," was the only response she could come up with. His words released her from her embarrassment, made her feel light and buoyant, as if she could tackle any problem that fate gave could ever hand her and come out on top. She laid her head against his chest, letting the truth of his words flow over her and sink in, gradually beginning to believe in them. "That is wonderful," she finally breathed out, her vivid blue eyes twinkling with happiness.

"It certainly is." Jim nuzzled his head against her curls, then reached out and tugged on the one that had been deemed his years earlier. Knowing that he loved and was loved in return made him feel complete. His arms tightened around her, bringing her as close to him as he could get. It was time for sharing the rest. He added solemnly, "My only regret is that we haven't been able to talk like this before."

'Talk' wasn't what he meant. She recognized that with the feminine wisdom that had been recently released within her. He meant 'kiss'. She inhaled deeply, searching out his lips and wondering when she would have the pleasure of kissing him again. Soon. It had better be soon, she thought to herself, unconsciously licking her bottom lip while she tried to figure out what he meant. It came to her the second she stopped looking at his mouth. "Oh! Right. I know what you mean. It is a shame that we had to wait three years," she responded carefully and waited, her eyes peeping up at him, curious as to how he would react to her admission.

Jim blew out an aggrieved breath, ready to commiserate with her. "Tell me about it. Three years. Three of the longest…" His voice trailed off into nothingness. It was his turn to look shocked. He pulled back, stared her up and down, and felt his mouth drop open. Shaking his head, he muttered, more to himself than to her, "I shouldn't be surprised. I know I shouldn't. Somehow you always manage to find out everything, anyway. You're always a mile ahead of the rest of us." He scratched his head, puzzled himself now. "But how the hell did you find out about…?"

"The promise you made to your parents?" Trixie supplied helpfully, finish his question for him. She laughed, pleased to see that he was genuinely stupefied. He hadn't known that she knew. Her finger traced idle circles at his waist. "Or would it be the fact that you couldn't ask me out on a date until I graduated from high school?" She stared up at him with feigned innocence.

He shook his head again. He would have thrown up his hands if he hadn't wanted to lose contact with her. He didn't. He needed to touch her so he kept his hands right where they were. He drew the only conclusion possible. "Someone had to tell you. It's the only way you could have found out. It couldn't have been either of our parents. I can't see it being Brian. It definitely wasn't me." The only person that he knew of who knew about the three year wait was another dark-haired member of their club. But he couldn't see Dan selling him out. Dan was extremely loyal, if a little irritating. "Was it Dan?"

"No, no," Trixie disagreed vehemently. "I found out quite by accident. It was Brian, actually. He told me without meaning to, on prom night. He, ah, well, you see, he explained it to Mart when they stopped in the den and saw us asleep, on the sofa." Her words came out softer and softer. She felt another telltale flush spread its way across her cheek.

Jim strained to hear what she was saying. The second he heard what she said, he immediately realized what she had inadvertently told him. She hadn't wanted to leave the bed they had made together out of her family's sofa anymore than he had wanted to when her parents had come in. She had faked sleep, the same way he had, to stay with him. Pulling her in for yet another strong embrace, he muttered into her ear, sending delicious shivers shooting through her body, "Don't be embarrassed, Trix. I pretended to be asleep when your parents came home, too."

He didn't say the words but she inferred without a doubt that he hadn't wanted to miss out on their unexpected night together either. Secure in the knowledge, finally allowing herself to believe fully that he was well and truly in love with her, she hugged him back fiercely. "I'm glad you didn't let them know that you were awake," she murmured huskily. "I'm really, really glad you didn't. It would have been awful to have had to go up to my room." Swallowing a breath of air sharply, she added, "I'm so glad that you didn't tell my parents. I loved sleeping on the sofa with you."

"Same here," he responded huskily. Running a finger over her cheekbone, he continued, "You can't even begin to imagine how grateful I am that you didn't let your brothers know that you were up." That night, that one fateful night, had turned into one of the best of his young life. Sleeping with his special girl in his arms had been incredible, an experience he would absolutely love to repeat. Only, he had to admit as he stared down into the lips that he had successfully ravaged only a few minutes earlier, he realized that he wouldn't be able to be quite so honorable the next time. And they wouldn't be getting quite as much sleep as they had on prom night. "But, ah, we seem to have digressed a bit," he explained more hoarsely than necessary, working hard to keep the tantalizing images out of his mind.

"What?" Trixie had been impaled on the intense look he had sent her way, had completely forgotten what they were talking about. She had trouble remembering to breathe when he looked at her like that, let alone think. She hoped he never, ever stopped. It didn't matter if it was damaging to her equilibrium. She could handle it, if he would just never stop.

"My promise. To my parents. Not to date you until they thought you were old enough. Remember?" He saw the confusion in her eyes, noted with a sense of deep male satisfaction the fact that she had to forcefully tear her gaze away from his lips, and felt a lazy grin work its way across his mouth.

"Oh, right." Trixie nodded her head inanely. It wasn't important to her anymore. She was where she wanted to be, where she had dreamed of being, for five long years. The reality was much more compelling and powerful than any fantasy she had ever been able to create. "Yeah. I remember, Jim."

"How do you feel about it?" Eyeing her curiously, he waited for her to tell him. He wanted to know. His Trixie was not one to keep her thoughts and emotions bottled up. Usually what she was feeling and experiencing was right there, bubbling just under the surface, but he couldn't get a good read on her this time.

Trixie shook her head, sending her curls dancing in the way that he liked the best. "I'm not thinking about it at all," she declared truthfully. "I'm not feeling anything about it, either. It's over, Jim. To me, believe it or not, the fact that our parents wanted us to wait doesn't even rate. Maybe it would have if I had found out about it earlier but, well, I came in on the tail end of it, anyway. We're here. We're ready. It's our time. It's about us now."

Pleased that she wasn't going to let it bother her, proof that she had matured and wasn't the same hot-headed thirteen-year-old that she had once been when she had first caught his eye, he questioned rhetorically, "It is our time now, isn't it?" He moved in closer. Part of him wondered how he was going to find the strength to ever let her go.

"Yes," she responded strongly. "It is, Jim. It really is." She had waited so incredibly long for this moment. To tell him she loved him, to be told the same in return, and to be kissed by him…she had no other words to describe the riotous sensations rocketing through her. It was her best, most beloved dream come true.

"I really do love you," Jim murmured as his mouth came even closer to hers, his intent clear. "I've loved you for just about ever, it seems, even before I knew what it was that I was feeling for you."

"Same here," Trixie replied breathlessly, pleased that she was able to string together two words but wanted to say more. She couldn't come up with anything else other than, "I love you, too."

This time when their lips met it wasn't as forcefully passionate as the first time. It was sweet and true, with the promise of many, many more to come. He didn't steep himself in her as much as he wanted to. He couldn't; they had others waiting on them and a party to get to. Jim broke it off, giving the darkness of the night around them a frustrated look and threaded his hand through hers. "We, ah, we should probably start back to my house before your father comes after me with a shotgun." Her parents' discussion from prom night was foremost in his mind. In that ten minute span of time when he had eavesdropped in on her parents, Peter Belden had made a big impression on him. It wasn't a sign of weakness on his part; it was a matter of survival. He wasn't going to do anything that could possibly antagonize her father.

Trixie leaned her head against his shoulder with a sigh, seeing the intelligence of his choice but not wanting to leave their spot. "I know we should get going." She paused, waited for him to stare back at her and shared with her sunny smile cutting through the dark night, "But I don't want to. I'd much rather stay right here, Jim, with you."

Her admission caused him to hold onto her tightly but he kept his resolution not to engage in another set of kisses. He doubted if he would have been able to keep it innocent. He was quickly coming to understand that he wasn't strong enough and that his famous honor could be turned into tatters swiftly if he spent too much time alone with her. "Let's go, Trixie."

The walk to the Manor House was quiet and comfortable, without only a few whispered words spoken between them. They held hands the entire way and only stopped when the Manor House stood before them. They walked up the front porch steps until he grabbed her shoulder, stopping her from moving farther than the top step. "I don't want to go in yet," he said by her ear, his warm breath causing tingles to travel throughout her body.

"Why not?" Trixie whispered back. She turned and faced him, curious. With him two steps below her and Trixie residing on the top step, they were face to face. She had never been the same height as him.

He brought his hands to her waist, encircling her. Letting her go was just as hard as he imagined it would be. Now that he knew that the two of them were fused together as resilient as an iron link in the strongest chain imaginable, he couldn't ever let go. He had to be near her. He had to touch. "I'm not ready to share you yet," he admitted softly. "I'm finding that I'm becoming rather selfish when it comes to you, Trix. I like having you all to myself."

The smile she granted him was full of feminine secrets. "I like having you all to myself, too," she informed him just as softly, just as truthfully, delighted that her words caused him to tighten his hold on her and brought her lips down to his. The kisses only got better.

He reluctantly broke the contact and laid his head under her chin. The exposed skin of her neck was driving him crazy. He nuzzled against it. Then he concentrated on the sound of her rapidly beating heart, astonished that he had the power to make her heart rate increase like that. "As much as it pains me to say it out loud, I have to agree with our parents. They were probably right," he uttered against her skin.

Her eyebrows pulled together. "What?" she asked him, unsure if she had heard right.

"I'm having a lot of trouble keeping my hands to myself," he informed her with a small, self-deprecating laugh. It was a bit embarrassing for him. It was also extremely exhilarating. His emotions had run the gamut over the course of their meeting but he loved where they were at, even if it meant he was going to have to take many cold showers in the near future. "And we've only been an official couple for what, an hour, if that? It's a little hard for me to admit it but the last thing I want to do is go in there. I'd much rather take you somewhere very, very private where we could be very, very alone." The desire to do just that was evident in the smoky way he looked at her.

She felt the look all the way to the center of her core. His words caused her breath to catch in her throat. She would much rather go with him, too. Her mother was right. It was going to be extremely hard to stay in control. Suddenly grateful for the embarrassing yet enlightening talk, she glanced back at the house, knowing that they didn't have any other option but to go in, and shared honestly, "You wouldn't have to convince me that hard to forget the party. I'd willingly go with you."

His hands tightened reflexively at her waist. Astounded by how close he was to actually finding that private spot and forgetting about the party, he ordered himself to release his grip until his hands rested lightly on her hips again. "We'll figure it out, Trix. You know we will," he said decidedly. "Together."

She nodded in response. Together. She couldn't ask for anything more. "We probably should go in."

"You're right." He took the remaining steps in one bound, caught her hand snugly within his. "After all, they are still missing one-third of the honored guests of the evening."

She followed him across the porch. The sounds of the ongoing party could be heard from inside. Music, chatter, the occasional boisterous laugh, soft murmurs. Everyone they knew and loved for was inside. It was her time to stop him. She put a hand on his arm, her face suddenly serious. "Will everyone know?" Trixie asked worriedly, biting her bottom lip. She did not like being in the limelight.

Jim stopped before opening the front door to his house. "You're going to have to be more specific than that, Trix," he chided her gently. "Do you mean will everyone know that you're my extremely and exclusively special girl?" He bent down, gave a soft kiss on her cheek, would have loved to have kissed another part of her face again but knew better than to start. It would put them back at least another half hour or more. "Or will they know that we just spent an extraordinarily large amount of time getting…ah…better acquainted, shall we say?"

"Both, I guess," she remarked, her cheeks flaring a bright shade of red again.

He didn't answer her question. He couldn't lie to her but he wouldn't tell her the truth. Everyone inside would know the answer to both questions the second they saw the two of them together. It was in the way he looked at her. It was in the way she looked back at him. "Take a deep breath, Trixie. Let me know when you feel comfortable. We'll head in when you're ready."

For once, she did as she was instructed. "All right." The deep breath didn't chase away her newest case of nerves. What helped the most was the feel of her hand within his. Slanting a glance back at him, she whispered quietly, "Thanks, Jim."

He squeezed her hand back. "For what, Trix?"

"For everything," she answered back, unable to come up with the words to explain all that she meant to him.

The words weren't needed. He saw the myriad of emotions shining in her eyes, recognized all that she wanted to tell him but couldn't. "Come with me, Trixie," he invited, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead like he had done during their midnight meeting in his bedroom a few weeks earlier. "Let's leave the dark behind and let's go inside."

Then, with her hand snuggled within his, he opened the front door. The light poured through, welcoming them, inviting them in. Trixie paused on the threshold. "Leave the dark behind," she repeated quietly, appreciating the turn of phrase. Her lips curled up at the corner. She couldn't have phrased it better herself. She doubted if even Mart, with his gift of words, could have either. The simple words healed the part of her soul that had been scarred just as surely as his arm had been. It was time to move on. "You're right. Let's go into the light," she declared with a wide smile on her face and absolutely no shadows of remembered pain or terror lurking just beyond the blue of her eyes.

A frown of bewilderment on his face, Jim stared at her closely, realizing that something significant had just occurred between them. When he saw the extremely bright and joyful gleam to her eyes, the way she had looked before all of the unpleasantness of the past month and a half had started, he felt the answering warmth spread the entire way through him. She was his Trixie again, complete and without question, and he couldn't have been more grateful. "Let's go," he repeated, his voice coming out thick and husky. The two stepped through over the threshold as one and came into the bright, friendly house.

They found the party without a problem. The cheerful voices led the way to the large living room. They stopped when they reached the doorway. Momentarily unnoticed by the many people inside, Trixie stood on her tiptoes and quickly scanned the room that was filled to overflowing with their family and friends. She grinned at Mart and Di, who were cuddled together in a far corner of the room. Then she saw Dan who was engaged in a deep conversation with his uncle and Mr. Maypenny. All three were laughing and smiling together, obviously enjoying each other's company very much. She allowed herself to feel a large amount of gratitude that their 'experiment' from a few years back had worked out so incredibly well. Next she found Brian and Honey who were both wearing matching, glowing expression to their faces. It wasn't difficult to decipher that the two had become much more than mere friends sometime between the end of the graduation ceremony and the start of the party. Last, she saw her parents. Her mother was the first to nod and smile at her. She had to bite down on a chuckle when she saw her mother elbow her father in the stomach, making him give them what an optimistic person might term a smile. It was all perfectly perfect. She turned to him. "Are you ready to go in, Jim?"

His hand firmly clasped over hers, he gave a curt nod. "It's time." He lifted her hand to his, gave it a swift kiss, and led their way into the room. From the curious and knowing looks coming their way, it wasn't hard to guess what was on everyone's mind, just as he had predicted minutes earlier. But it didn't bother him the way he had thought it would. How could it, when everyone who was in this room was someone that he loved and respected? "It feels good, doesn't it, Trix?"

Her smile was the sweetest, happiest, most jubilant she could ever remember it being. "It's the best, Jim." A similar phrase of his floated back to her, one that she had treasured ever since she had heard him say it. She added reverently, her eyes sparkling brighter than the crystal of the large chandelier above them, "It's the absolute best."

**The End**

(with an epilogue to follow...)


	62. Epilogue

**Into The Light**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Epilogue

_The next day…_

The stone cut across the water of the lake, skipping five times before sinking into the depths of the water below. Jim sat on the dock, legs dangling over the water, while his fingers ran over the smoothness of another flat stone. It wasn't long before he set that one skimming across the water, too. Then he sat back, impatient, his green eyes hidden behind dark, tinted sunglasses.

Light steps alerted him before a weight sat down next to him, His lips twisted up into a relieved smile. He didn't need to look at the newcomer. Jim knew who it was. There seemed to be a difference in the air when she came around him. "It's about time," he joked, a mischievous glint to his eyes that she couldn't see, not with the dark shades blocking her view. He let the stone drop into the water and shifted his body until there wasn't a bit of space between them. Needing the contact, as he always did, he draped an arm around her shoulder.

Trixie rolled her blue eyes, settling in closer against him and glanced down at his arm. The ugly scar didn't bother her, not like it had before last night. With his help and support, she had been able to lay that demon to rest, along with a few others. Instead, she concentrated on the feel of his body next to her, the sound of his breathing, and the hand that was drawing small circles on the bare skin of her arm. Being near him felt so right, making her feel complete and cherished. She couldn't deny it even if it did sound old-fashioned and clichéd. It was the pure and simple truth. The move from friend to girlfriend hadn't been difficult or awkward at all, even under the knowing and amused eyes of all of their friends and family during the graduation party. It felt completely natural as if they had always been meant for each other and that fate had been doing its best to bring the two of them together. "It's been a busy day," she laughingly answered, at ease with him just as she always imagined she would be. "I've had a lot of things on my plate today."

He lifted both eyebrows while he pretended to study his watch. "Not even a day has gone by and you're already too busy to make time for your boyfriend," Jim complained with a deep, dramatic and playful sigh. Low chuckles of contentment rolled out of his mouth when she pushed against his chest.

She flushed only a little when he referred to himself as her 'boyfriend.' It sounded perfect to her. It wasn't something she was ever going to get tired of hearing, not until they traded it in for another, more permanent title. But that was a long way off. "You know I had to a zillion chores this morning. I think I told you that last night. Moms isn't going easy on me anymore, not that I thought that would last too long." Now that her body was healed and she was back to her normal, active self, her household chores were back to normal, too, even after a night of congratulatory partying. "I didn't get finished until lunchtime. Then I spent most of the afternoon at your house with your sister. It wasn't my fault that you weren't in residence there," she chided him gently. Then she laid her head on his shoulder and inquired, all teasing aside, "How did your meeting go?"

He would have much rather been at home. Even if the purpose of her visit had been to spend time with his sister, he knew he would have been able to steal her away from Honey for awhile. He would give just about anything find her in his room again, alone and uninterrupted, like that night a few weeks earlier. But he hadn't been able to miss out on his meeting. As he stared down into the blue eyes that he knew better than his own, he realized that they were going to have to learn how to balance their friends, their family, and their jobs. It wasn't going to be easy but it would be worth it. "It was informative. All of the other camp counselors for the summer were there, too. We got to see the names of the kids who have registered so far. It's a pretty impressive list. We also planned out our agenda for next week."

"I know you saw a Robert Belden on that list," Trixie remarked, doing her best not to laugh at him although her overly expressive face told how much she enjoyed it. She found it extremely humorous that Jim was going to spend most of his summer watching over her brother at the community center, the same way she had spent a good portion of her life watching over him. "I'll be glad to give you a few pointers on how to handle him, should you need it," she offered.

"Somehow I doubt repeated readings of _The Tale of Peter Rabbit _by my second favorite Beatrixworks anymore, right?" His hand trailed up and down her bare arm, from her shoulder to her wrist, leaving small tingles in its wake. His favorite Beatrix was sitting next to him, exactly where he always wanted her to be.

"Definitely not," she giggled back, doing her best to ignore the feelings that his touch were already starting to create in her and overlooked the use of her first name. She didn't mind hearing her given name falling from his lips. He could call her just about anything he wanted to. "He is definitely looking forward to the summer camp at the community center. Were his two partners in crime also on the list?" Trixie pretended to shudder, imagining the horrors that the three of them could manage to create, even under the watchful eyes of reliable and trustworthy camp counselors, like Jim and the rest of the staff.

He repeated her exaggerated shudder. It had the promise to be an interesting experience for him, one that he was looking forward. While it had the chance to be challenging, he would also gain a lot of valuable experience for his school, which he planned on opening sometime in the distant future. "Of course they did. At least I won't have to worry too much about Larry, not until he gets the cast off of his foot. Bobby and Terry will be my main concern for the first two weeks." He was ready to be busy. He imagined that those three were certainly going to keep him on his toes for the entire summer.

Looking out over the lake, listening to the water lap gently and lazily against the shore, Trixie cuddled against him, feeling unbelievable safe and secure within the comforts of his strong arms, and explained softly, "I was a little later than normal because Moms needed extra help with dinner. There are more people coming to eat than she had expected. Mart sprang it on her about an hour ago that he had invited Dan to come over. Honey's also coming, courtesy of Brian, so it's going to be a little fuller than Moms had originally thought. I think she was secretly grateful that you and I had made other plans already."

The picnic basket he had packed for them sat unobtrusively near the picnic table, untouched. Neither were in the hurry for food. They were content with each other. "I don't care that you were late. All that matters to me is that you came. It's just too much fun teasing you." Jim leaned in, ready to give her the first kiss of many for the evening, when a series of cheerful whistles coming down the path alerted them that they wouldn't be alone for much longer.

Trixie swung her head around and narrowed her eyes at the path, identifying the whistler immediately. Twin feelings of frustration and anticipation whirled throughout her. She hadn't seen her most bothersome brother since breakfast. She stared at the point in the path, waiting for him to come into view, a mischievous smile tilting up her lips. She stood up from the dock, dusted off her shorts, and started forward, Jim right next to her.

Brought to a halt by their presence, he stared at the two, his whistle dying a quick death. Running a hand over his short hair, he told himself that he was going to have to get used to seeing his baby sister with one of his good friends and that he couldn't let it bother him. It was going to take some getting used to but he couldn't complain or tease them about it, not without becoming the worst hypocrite possible. After all, he was becoming further and further entrenched in an amazing relationship with one of their best friends. Ignoring the chance to annoy her about her new position in Jim Frayne's life, he started forward, willing to take another topic up with her, one that was more appropriate and certainly dearer to his aggrieved heart. "You cannot even begin to tell how fortuitous that I have happened upon your presence," he sneered out, his face promising a stormy retribution when he looked at his sister.

She eyed her brother with her hands on her hips. The tiny smile that curved her lips at the edges was extremely satisfied and thrilled. She had been waiting for his reaction since he had left this morning. "Do you have something to ask me?" she wondered overly brightly, tapping a finger against her chin.

He took his cell phone from the clip at the side of his worn work jeans and shook it in her direction. "Do you know what she did to me?" he asked Jim, intentionally overlooking her and focusing on the smiling redhead.

"With Trixie, the possibilities are endless," he remarked easily. Jim remembered seeing Trixie and Dan cornered together for a good five minutes at the graduation party the evening before, wearing identical looks of playful impishness and diabolical delight on their faces. Their voices had been low, as had been their laughter. He hadn't felt a smidgeon of jealousy over the two, most likely because they had spent a goodly amount of time already showing how important they were to each other. He hadn't asked her about, had figured she would tell him when the time was right but he had a pretty strong suspicion about what the two of them had come up. "I don't know what she did," he declared frankly and winked at her, letting her know that he was firmly in her corner.

"I finally got even with him," Trixie retorted with a small sniff, tossing her head back defiantly and staring her brother down. "About time, too, I might add."

Mart ignored her and brandished his cell phone under Jim's nose, causing Jim to take a large step back. "Can you believe it? I can't. I absolutely can't believe that she did it." He muttered a few unintelligible words. "This is the thanks I get. This! After I lent her my phone when Sergeant Molinson confiscated hers for evidence, she had the audacity to change my ring tone!" He stabbed at a series of buttons and then the gleefully sweet and extremely joyful strands of ABBA's _Dancing Queen _came out of the receiver.

Jim's mouth twitched. He couldn't hold back the sharp bark of laughter even though it only made Mart glower more fiercely at him and then at Trixie. "That's, ah, that's terrible, Mart," he managed to get out with sham sympathy after his laughter died down.

"That's not the worst of it." Not acknowledging his sister, who was holding her sides because laughter was spilling uncontrollably out of her, he added disdainfully, "There I was, having lunch with Di at _Wimpy's_, a full to the brim _Wimpy's_, I need to add, when I hear this horrible noise emanating from my cell phone. Normally I keep my cell on vibrate but someone must have switched that, too." He eyed up the 'someone', gave her a look that should have reduced her to ashes, before continuing, "So, everyone in the diner is staring in our direction while the Swedish singing groups serenades them. When I finally realize that the song is coming from my cell, I answered it as quickly as I could." The damage had been done. The patrons of _Wimpy's_ had burst into a round of raucous laughter while he had flared a vivid red.

"Awful, just awful," Jim choked out, gripping Trixie's hand while he listened to the rest of Mart's story, and impressed with her ingenuity.

"It wasn't her calling, of course." He jabbed a finger at his sister. "It was her partner in crime, of course, and my former best friend." Mart shook his head, wondering why Dan had agreed to help her out. He would get even. He would make sure of it. "And he didn't call just once. Oh, no. Mr. Mangan called three times in the span of five minutes. I'm sure he would have called more if I hadn't turned my phone off." Spent from his story, he stepped back, an annoyed scowl on his face while he waited impatiently for Trixie and Jim to regain control of their laughter.

A full minute later, wiping away the tears of mirth from her eyes, Trixie inhaled a deep breath. "It serves you right," she snorted without an ounce of sympathy for her brother. "You played with my phone enough since you've been home from college if you remember correctly. You gave me a few interesting and rather inappropriate ringtones. Dan offered to help me get even with you a while back. I finally took him up on the offer last night." It had been fun to plan their strategy. She almost hoped that Mart would reciprocate and give them another chance to even the score again.

"You evened it, all right. I hate to say it but I have to admit defeat on this one." Now the frown was directed at himself, as was his frustration. "I'll bet that both you and Dan knew that ABBA is one of Di's favorite non-country groups, right?" At Trixie's interested nod, he continued, "She was impressed with my new ringtone. Di was so impressed that she begged me to keep it." Mart looked pained. "She loves it."

Jim and Trixie burst into another round of delighted laughter. "And you couldn't tell her no," Trixie surmised correctly when the newest wave had died down, without the least bit of sympathy for her brother. He deserved it, as far as she was concerned.

He slanted another infuriated glance at her. "You played a little too dirty there, Trix."

"I learned from the best," she quipped back, remembering his chosen songs for her and how embarrassed she had been when her cell phone had rang. Staring at the picnic table a few feet away, remembering the time her phone had rang during their picnic when everything was just starting to fall apart, she put in warningly, "You should also know that Dan and I came up with quite an impressive list of other, even more embarrassing songs, chosen just for you, Mart. A good many of those songs are favorites of Di, too. I won't hesitate to use them if the need should arise."

"I'm not ever going to touch your cell phone again," he stated strongly, shuddering with disgust. "I'm completely done with that little prank." It hadn't been as much fun to be the recipient. But, as he pasted an aggrieved look on his face, he realized that he would only have to come up with something even better to tease her with. It could take a while but he knew that there were other, more inventive ways of exacting revenge against her. She was his only sister. He was honor bound to provoke her, no matter what.

Trixie rocked back on her heels. As hard as it was for her to admit, it didn't happen much. She rarely came out on the winning end and was prepared to enjoy the feeling of besting her 'almost-twin'. "Are you heading home now?" she inquired, hoping that a change in conversation would improve his disposition.

Nodding curtly, Mart smiled, a slow, cunning smile. If the chance came, he already had a way of paying back his good friend and business partner. "I invited Dan to come down for dinner but you probably already know that. I called and told Moms a while back." He pointed in the direction of the stables. "Anyway, he's still visiting Regan. We spent most of the afternoon helping him repair a part of the fence on the far side of the field that was in danger of falling apart."

She could practically see the wheels turning in her brother's mind. Revenge was sweet, saccharine sweet, as their youngest brother had declared many years ago. She would warn Dan not to accept any food or drink that her brother helped make. She doubted if he would find the results pleasing. "No Di, Mart?"

"She had to watch her brothers and sisters this evening," Mart explained with a disappointed sigh, missing his violet-eyed beauty. "Lunch was our only opportunity to spend some time together today. Thanks for making it so memorable," he said sarcastically before giving them a small wave. The boards creaked under his feet. "Have a good evening," he called back over his shoulder. Mart stopped before the first corner of the path and looked back. This time his smile was happy and pleased. The two looked good together. Even he could see that. Stomach rumbling, he patted it and hurried down to their house, needing sustenance in the form of his mother's delicious chicken salad.

Jim had trouble comprehending the revenge she had successfully employed against her brother. Slanting a wary glance her way, he pondered aloud, raising a single eyebrow, "_Dancing Queen_?" Secretly, he was ecstatic. If she was searching out ways to annoy her brother, then she really was succeeding in her endeavor to put the pain of the past behind her. Overwhelmed by pride for her, he caught a hand and brought it up to his lips.

"Completely inspired by Dan," Trixie answered cheerfully, threading her fingers through his, completely unaware of his interpretation of her actions and how well he understood her. "I pulled him off to the side last night at the party and brought it up to him. He had offered to help me a while back but the time wasn't right." She didn't add in why. It wasn't needed. Both knew the reasoning behind it. "We decided that it was finally time for Mart to learn a lesson. Maybe he'll think a little harder the next time he wants to get a laugh." It had felt good to plan a little harmless revenge against the nitwit that was her brother, to completely feel like herself again. It felt even better to see the effects of their plan.

His eyes lit up with approval, relieved that their lives were returning to normal. As he stared at her hand held snugly within his, he hastily fixed his thought. It wasn't exactly the old normal that had once existed between them. They found themselves creating a new normalcy, one where their relationship, as well as a few others, were starting to shift and change in new and exciting ways. Stepping closer to him, his voice deep and low, he wondered aloud, "Now, where were we before your brother so rudely interrupted us?"

Trixie's breath caught in her throat. About to answer, resting a hand at his waist, she stood on her tiptoes, bringing her face upwards towards his, only to be interrupted by two jovial raised voices. Disappointed, she dropped back, a small, irritated frown on her face. Of all the luck, she thought disconsolately. "Who is it this time?" she muttered, eyes narrowed and a small pout on her lips.

Her older brother and his sister. Jim didn't share the identity of the voices. The same feelings of frustration were riding him hard, too. He was only slightly better at hiding them than she was. He pasted what he hoped passed for a welcoming grin on his face and turned to face the path once again, keeping her hand within his. "Hey, Honey and Brian," he called out when the couple came into view.

Honey waved back, a sunny smile on her face, and rushed towards them on the dock, her happiness radiating out from somewhere deep within her. The cause of her joy followed at a slower pace, correctly guessing what they had interrupted. Having no qualms over stopping his best friend from kissing his sister, even if only for the moment, he joined the group of three, making it a nice round number of four, and greeted them with a satisfied smile. He wasn't going to ask what they were up to or what their plans were for the evening. He didn't want to know the answer.

"You'll have to watch out for Mart when you get home," Trixie began, certain that her brother wasn't going to be in the best mood. "He's on the warpath right now. He's not very happy."

"I heard," Brian replied with a deep chuckle. Honey joined in with him, her smile widening until it nearly split her face. He added, "We were talking with Dan and Regan while we took care of the horses after our ride. Dan told us all. Then Honey called Di and got a firsthand account from her. It sounds like you were very successful."

"Good for you, Trixie!" Honey called out gaily, impulsively throwing her arms around her friend. Like Jim, she had caught on to what it meant, was more than overjoyed that her friend was successfully mending and moving on. She vowed to help Trixie in any way that she possibly could. "I couldn't have pictured a more perfectly perfect way to get back at Mart. He won't try that trick again, I know that. Di even joined in, in case you didn't realize it. She managed to convince him to keep the song as his permanent ringtone. She did that on purpose, you know, for you."

"I didn't know that." Trixie covered her mouth, eyes dancing at the cunningness that was Diana Lynch. "I'll have to remember to thank her."

"He'll only think of something new to trip you up with," Brian put in astutely. "You'll have to watch out for that, Trix. He'll give you a while to think that he's forgotten about it. But he won't. Mart will come back with a new tactic."

"He wouldn't be Mart Belden if he didn't!" Trixie declared jovially. "Between me and all of you, I really don't mind most of his tricks. It's part of what makes him so special to all of us. But," she added in forcefully, "he does need to be put back in his place, every now and then. I know all of you will be glad to help me with that, when the time comes again."

He had always suspected that Trixie was secretly okay with Mart's jokes. Nodding his head, he took ahold of Honey's elbow and started back down the dock. "Are you on your way home for dinner?"

"No. I'll be home later," Trixie told Brian. "Have a good time. I'll see both of you later." She gave the two of them a small wave and watched them leave, her brother and her best friend, thinking that they made a lovely couple. Then she forgot about them. The feeling of relief that came with their departure was immense. Shyly, she turned back to Jim, her eyes asking him for what she wanted. Her hands were inches away from winding around his waist when the melodic beep of her cell phone cut in, announcing a new text message.

Squinching his eyes closed, Jim dropped back and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his faded jean shorts, unable to believe their string of bad luck. They had way too many friends. They had way too much family. The only place where they were going to get any type of privacy was to find a deserted island somewhere, preferably in the Caribbean. The fantasy that came to his mind made him draw a sharp breath. Shaking it away, he gestured towards her cell "Go for it, Trix," he invited her.

She didn't have a choice. She had to answer it. The last thing she wanted to do was to forget her cell phone at home and not have it with her. Her parents had made it clear that she still needed to have her cell on her at all times and that she had to answer it. At all times. The thought of being grounded, now that she was officially dating Jim, was detestable. It was the very last thing she wanted to happen. Flipping open her phone, she read the text message. "It's from Di," she explained quickly. "She says that she's stuck home watching her brothers and sisters and is feeling bored. She also wants to get together with Honey and me tomorrow since she wasn't able to meet with us today."

He took the phone from her fingers and flipped it closed. Then he helpfully slipped it back into her back pocket, taking a longer time than necessary, and causing her heart rate to triple. He patted the phone through the denim of her shorts while his other hand found her waist. "What do you think, Trixie? Is that our last interruption of the evening?"

She wasn't even given the chance to answer. They heard the sounds of another set of footsteps coming their way from the Manor House. Staring at each other, they came to the same conclusion. "Dan," they chorused together, accepting their fate with as much grace as possible. Both had known it was going to be hard to find time together. Neither had realized how hard, when there were so many people more than ready and willing to trip over them. Trixie smothered a groan and laid her head on his chest, breathing in the masculine smell of his cologne, before she found the strength to move back.

Sure enough, he came down the path and stopped, staring at the two of them with an unholy gleam to his dark eyes. He would have had to have been blind to have missed out on the fact that both Trixie and Jim did not want to host anyone right now and clearly would prefer for him to continue on his merry way without stopping to speak to them. Because they wanted to be alone, he decided not to be obliging and sauntered towards them, his grin slightly wicked. He wouldn't tease either of them, for Trixie's sake, but he would act slightly irritating, just for the principle of it. They wouldn't expect anything less.

"Hey, guys!" He called out happily, all the while laughing inside at the looks of agony they shared with each other before giving him their attention. Even though he possessed the knowledge that Trixie and Jim were not joining the Beldens and a few assorted others for dinner, he asked the question anyway, "What are you doing out here? I would have thought you were both going down to Crabapple Farm for dinner. From what I understand just about everyone is going to be there."

Trixie pursed her lips together, accepting the fact that they were not going to be alone for a little while longer. Looking at her 'partner in crime', as Mart had dubbed him earlier, she thought it only fair to warn him. "Ah, Dan? I wouldn't recommend eating or drinking anything that Mart gives to you," she advised Dan softly. "It would probably be best to give him a little space tonight. He's not that happy with either one of us right now. And, well, you'll be the only available one that he'll be able to take it out on right now."

"Ah," Dan responded with a cheerful chuckle that grated on Jim's nerves. "He knows we were working together, does he? He didn't say anything to me about it when he came back from lunch but he is a bright one, curse his soul. I'll bet he's already trying to find some way to get even with us."

Trixie nodded with an answering grin of her own. "He wasn't very happy. At all." She leaned in closer, pitching her voice lower, and gave him the best news to come out of their plan, "You're never going to believe this but Di is in on it, too. She convinced him that she loves the song so much that he has to keep it as his ringtone!"

Dan's grin widened until it nearly cracked his face. He was going to have to make certain that he called his friend often and he was going to have to thank Di when he had the chance. "That's even better than we hoped for. Good job, Trix." He clapped her on the shoulder, more to test Jim than anything else, and was pleased to note that Jim's face didn't flare up with jealousy like it had when they had visited Trixie in the hospital. He nodded his head. Knowing that his feelings were reciprocated must have dulled some of his friend's fiercer emotions, Dan realized with a curt nod. That would only make both of them happier with each other.

"Hey, I'm not the only one who worked hard on this one." Trixie held her hands up, palms out. "I had a lot of help, from you and from Di. I only had to sneak into his room and fiddle around with his phone. You are the one who came up with the awesome choice of song."

"Thanks for the warning about Mart." Noticing that Jim was unusually quiet, obviously wishing that he would stop and continue on his merry way, Dan decided to give in and do just that. Teasing Jim and Brian wasn't going to be quite as enjoyable anymore now that the time limit had elapsed and each had managed to corner and win their respective girls. "I'll be sure to watch out for that brother of yours. I'm off to have some of your mother's good food. Take care!" With a small salute he was gone, his whistle floating back to them even when he was gone from sight.

"You know, you never told me why you wanted to punch Dan the other night," Trixie mentioned, staring after their friend.

"Let's just say that he's my Mart. I know that you can understand that better than anyone else," Jim explained cryptically and then ticked off the interruptions in his mind. "Yeah. That's got to be it," he decided quietly, giving Trixie a sly look.

"What do you mean?" Confused, she tilted her head to the side in that way he found endearing.

"Five Bob-Whites have either come or texted and have definitely gone. Mart. Brian. Honey. Di. Dan. I'd say that the coast is finally clear. At least the coast is clear until dinner is over at your house and everyone starts to return on that path over there." He took her elbow and led her back to the edge of the dock, the place they had started at before their many interruptions. They sat down, their picnic dinner waiting for them in the basket by the picnic table, forgotten, and looked out over the peaceful water again. "Do you remember our Bob-White picnic the first weekend I was home?"Jim asked suddenly. "It was Sunday, the day after our ride to the bluffs."

With her head resting on his shoulder, Trixie gave an absent, "Hmm. That was when Mart revealed my newest and potentially most irritating ringtone." There were a few other important details from the picnic, a few small and a few big, but Trixie refused to dwell on them, to let them affect her life any longer. The stalker was gone. Britten was dead. It was over. Everything was finally fine with her world again. She wasn't going to waste time thinking back on the recent past. She couldn't be cavalier enough to say that it didn't matter because it did. But she was strong enough to not let it bother her, not when she had more charming avenues to pursue, such as the handsome man next to her.

"That's right. You came over to the dock, just like this. I followed you. Then we were sitting together like this, right here, at the edge of the dock," he murmured into her ear. "The others had miraculously disappeared and we were all alone. Just like we are now," he added huskily. He hoped that they managed to find lots of time to be alone and private but he wasn't overly optimistic. Sleepyside may be a small town but it was filled to the brim with people that they loved and respected. Alone time, with only the two of them, was going to be sparse. The number of interruptions they had recently suffered through attested to that. They would have to make the best out of the time they managed to steal away from the others. Tucking a wayward blonde curl behind her ear, he watched it spring back into its former place. "I can remember thinking that I was missing out on a perfect opportunity."

Lulled by the smoothness of his voice, as well as the sound of the water gently lapping against the wood of the dock, she inquired dreamily, starting to feel tired from her late night and her full day of pleasant and not-so-pleasant activities, "For what?"

"I'll show you, if you'd like me to." Jim's arms wound their way around her.

She lifted her head immediately, all tiredness gone, and reached up to remove his sunglasses. They landed with a plop on the dock while a slow smile curved its way across her lips. "I'd like you to show me, very much," she invited, meeting the brilliant emerald green of his eyes with hers, aware of exactly what he wanted to.

The descent was slow. When their lips touched, it was with the utmost of care, extremely soft, and heartbreakingly gentle. "Just as perfect as I imagined it to be," he said against her lips. "You're just as amazing as I knew you would be." Trixie couldn't formulate a response. His lips were on hers again, this time much stronger and more demanding, carefully pulling her deeply into the kiss until they both had to break apart, gasping for much-needed breath and in need of a little space to combat the desire that flared so effortlessly between them.

"It's only going to get better, isn't it?" Trixie wondered aloud, touching a finger to her trembling lips. It was unbelievable. She could still feel the pressure of his mouth on hers.

His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her up against his side. So many possibilities shone out before them. So many options and so many choices. Limitless. Exciting. And impossibly exhilarating. He knew beyond a doubt that she would be right next to him through it all, helping him and supporting him, the same way he would be there for her. "I couldn't have said it better myself," he whispered before leaning in for another taste. "I love you, Trixie."

She would never get tired of hearing those words coming out of his mouth, in the sound of his beloved voice, with his green eyes shining with the absolute truth of the simple statement. If she blinked back a few sentimental tears, she wouldn't admit it. With the endless blue of the sky above them, as surely as open and luminous as the future that spread out invitingly before them, she repeated the words that had been the beat of her heart since she had been thirteen years old. "And I love you."

**The End**

To everyone who read this story…

Thank you so much for taking the time to read it and (hopefully) enjoy it! It was a really enjoyable experience to write it and to post it here at , thanks to the wonderful readers and reviewers here. I also want to thank the people who helped make this story better, both with their ideas and also when they caught mistakes that I made. I appreciate all of your support even more than any of you could know. Thank you. I wish everyone the absolute best.

Have a terrific day!  
Mylee


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